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JfwIIer  ffltetfeies'  fibrag. 


I      COMPLETE  WORKS  OF  RICHARD  CRASHAW. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  II. 

ESSAY  ON  LIFE  AND  WRITINGS. 

EPIGRAMMATA  ET  POEMATA  LATINA :  TRANSLATED  FOR  THE 
FIRST  TIME.    GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


LONDON  t 
ROBSON  AND  SONS,  PRINTERS,  PANCRAS  ROAD,  N.W. 


fxe  Jfuller  ®J0rtIjbs'  IR 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS 


RICHARD    CRASHAW, 


FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME  COLLECTED 

AND  COLLATED  WITH  THE  ORIGINAL  AND  EARLY  EDITIONS, 
AND  MUCH  ENLARGED  WITH 

I.  Hitherto  imprinted  and  iiiedited  Poems  from  Archbishop  Sancroft's 

MSS.  &c.  &c. 
II.  Translation  of  the  whole  of  the  Poemata  et  Epigrammata. 

III.  Memorial-Introduction,  Essay  on  Life  and  Poetry,  and  Notes. 

IV.  In  Quarto,  reproduction  in  facsimile  of  the  Author's  own  Illustra 

tions  of  1652,  with  others  specially  prepared. 


EDITED  BY  THE 

REV.  ALEXANDER  B.  GROSART, 

ST.  GEORGE'S,  BLACKBURN,  LANCASHIRE. 

/<m 

IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 


VOL.  II. 


PRINTED  FOR  PRIVATE  CIRCULATION. 

1873. 
156  copies  printed. 


PR 


/ 


PREFACE. 


Ix  our  Essay  and  Notes  in  the  present  Volume  we  so 
fully  state  such  things  as  it  seemed  expedient  to  state 
on  the  •  specialties  of  our  collection  of  Crashaw's  Latin 
and  Greek  Poetry,  in  common  with  our  like  collection 
of  his  English  Poetry  in  Vol.  I.,  that  little  remains  for 
preface  here,  beyond  our  wish  renewedly  to  express 
our  gratitude  and  obligations  to  our  fellow-workers  on 
the  Translations  now  submitted.  The  names  given  at 
p.  4  herein,  and  the  markings  on  the  margin  of  the 
Contents,  will  show  how  generously  my  own  somewhat 
large  proportion  of  the  task  of  love  has  been  lightened 
by  them ;  and  throughout  I  have  been  aided  and  ani 
mated  by  the  cordiality  with  wrhich  the  friends  have 
responded  to  my  demands,  or  spontaneously  sent  their 
contributions.  Preeminently  I  owe  thanks  to  my  '  bro 
ther  beloved,'  the  Eev.  EICHARD  WILTON,  M.  A.,  Londes- 
borough  Eectory,  Market  Weighton. 

On  the  text  of  the  Latin  and  Greek  I  refer  to  the 
close  of  our  Essay ;  but  I  must  acknowledge  willing 
and  scholarly  help,  on  certain  points  whereon  I  con 
sulted  them,  from  Rev.  Dr.  HOLDEN,  Ipswich,  Eev.  Dr. 


VI  PKEFACE. 

JESSOPP,  Norwich,  and  W.  ALDIS  WRIGHT,  Esq.  M.A. 
Cambridge  (as  before) ;  albeit  the  inevitable  variety  of 
suggested  emendations,  as  onward,  compelled  me  to 
limit  myself  to  as  accurate  a  reproduction  as  possible 
of  the  text  of  Crashaw  himself,  obvious  misprints  ex- 
cepted. 

I  have  now  to  record  the  various  University  Col 
lections  wherein  Crashaw's  earliest  poetical  efforts  ap 
peared — all  showing  a  passionate  loyalty,  which  indeed 
remained  with  him  to  the  end. 

(a)  Anthologia  in  Kegis  exanthemata ;  seu  gratulatio 
Musarum  Cantabrigiensium  de  felicissime  conservata 
Regis  Caroli  valetudine,  1632. 

(b)  Ducis  Eboracensis  Fasciae  a  Musis  Cantabrigi- 
ensibus  raptim  contextae,  1633. 

(c)  Rex  Redux ;    sive   Musa  Cantabrigiensis  Yoti 
.  .  .  et  felici  reditu  Regis  Caroli  post  receptam  coronam 
comitaque  peracta  in  Scotia,  1633. 

(d)  Carmen  Natalitium  ad  cunas  illustrissimae  Prin- 
cipis  Elizabethae   decantatum  intra  Nativitatis  Dom. 
solemnia  per  humiles  Cantabrigiae  Musas,  1635. 

(e)  SuvyS/a,   sive  Musarum  Cantabrigiensium  con- 
centus  et  congratulatio  ad  serenissimum  Britanniarum 
Regem  <3arolum  de  quinta  sua  sobole  clarissima  Prin 
cipe  sibi  nuper  felicissime  nata,  1637. 

(/)  Voces  votivae  ab  Academicis  Cantabrigiensibus 
pro  novissimo  Caroli  et  Mariae  Principe  Filio  emissae, 
1640. 


PREFACE.  Vll 

It  is  a  noticeable  fact,  that  Crashaw  while  still  so 
young  should  have  been  invited  to  contribute  to  these 
University  Collections  along  with  Wren,  Henry  More, 
Edward  King  ('  Lycidas'),  Joseph  Beaumont,  Edward 
Eainbow,  and  kindred.  His  pieces  in  each  are  re 
corded  in  the  places  in  our  Volumes.  They  invite 
critical  comment ;  but  our  space  is  fully  exhausted. 

By  the  liberality  of  F.  MADOX-BROWN,  Esq.  R.A. 
I  am  enabled  to  furnish  (in  the  4to)  in  this  our  Second 
Volume  an  admirable  photograph,  by  Hollyer  of  Lon 
don,  of  his  cartoon  for  the  memorial-window  in  Peter- 
house,  Cambridge.  Peterhouse  is  at  late-last  doing 
honour  to  some  of  her  sons  thus.  Professor  Ward,  of 
Owens'  College,  Manchester,  has  the  praise,  as  the  pri 
vilege,  of  presenting  the  Crashaw  portion  of  the  fine 
Window.  The  figure  is  full  of  dignity  and  impressive- 
ness;  we  may  accept  the  creation  of  the  Painter's  genius 
for  a  Portrait.  The  accessories  are  suggestive  of  fami 
liar  facts  in  the  life  and  poetry  of  Crashaw.  Vignette- 
illustrations  from  W.  J.  LINTON,  Esq.  and  Mrs.  BLACK 
BURN  again  adorn  our  volume  (in  4to).  I  regard  that 
to  the  '  Captive  Bird'  (p.  xxi.)  as  a  gem.  Finally,  I  can 
not  sufficiently  acknowledge  the  cultured  sympathy 
with  which  Mr.  CHARLES  ROBSON  (of  my  Printers),  one 
of  the  old  learned  school,  has  cooperated  with  me  in 
securing  accuracy.  To  *  err  is  human,'  but  I  believe 
our  Volumes  will  be  found  as  little  blemished  as  most. 
One  misprint,  however,  caught  our  eye,  just  when  our 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

completed  Vol.  I.  was  sent  out,  which  troubled  us  as 
much  as  ever  it  would  have  done  Eitson,  viz.  '  anchor' 
for  l  arrow'  in  Cowley's  *  Hope'  (p.  176, 1.  23).  Gentle 
Reader,  be  so  good  as  correct  this  at  once. 

A.  B.  G. 

Park  View,  Blackburn,  Lancashire, 
March  4, 1873. 

P.S.  Three  small  overlooked  items  bearing  on  Cra- 
shaw  having  been  recovered  from  a  missing  Note-book, 
I  add  them  here. 

(a)  The  1670  edition  of  the  'Steps,'  &c.  (whose 
title-page  is  given  in  Vol.  I.  xliv.)  was  re-issued  with 
an  undated  title-page  as  *  The  Third  Edition.  London, 
Printed  for  Richard  Bently,   Jacob   Tonson,   Francis 
Saunders,  and  Tho.  Bennett   It  is  from  the  same  type, 
and  identical  in  every  way  except  the  fresh  title-page, 
with  the  (so-called)  <  2d  Edition.' 

(b)  In  Thomas  Shipman's  '  Carolina,  or  Loyal  Poems' 
(1683)  there  is  a  somewhat  scurril  piece  entitled  'The 
Plagiary,  1658.      Upon  S.  C.,  Presbyterian  Minister 
and  Captain,  stealing  forty-eight  lines  from  Crashaw's 
Poems,  to  patch-up  an  Elegy  for  Mr.  F.  Pperpont].1     A 
very  small  specimen  must  suffice  : 

4 

1  Soft,  sir,— stand ! 

You  are  arraign' d  for  theft ;  hold  up  your  hand. 
Impudent  theft  as  ever  was  exprest, 
Not  to  steal  jewels  only,  but  the  chest; 
Not  to  nib  bits  of  gold  from  Crashaw's  lines, 
But  swoop  whole  strikes  together  from  his  mynes.' 


PREFACE.  IX 

Another   piece,  '  The  Promise.     To  F.  L.  Esq.,  with 
Crashaw's  Poems  (1653),'  has  nothing  quotable. 

(c)  In  Aylett's  Poems,  *  Peace  with  her  Fowre  Gar 
dens,'  &c.  (1622),  there  are  three  little  commendatory 
poems  signed  '  E.  C.,'  and  these  have  been  assigned  to 
Crashaw;  but  '  1622'  forbids  this,  as  he  was  then  only 
in  his  9-1  Oth  year.  G. 


CONTENTS. 


As  neither  Crashaw  nor  his  early  Editors  furnished  Contents  to  the  Epi- 
grammata  et  Poemata,  we  are  left  free  to  decide  thereon ;  and  inasmuch 
as  (a)  our  translations  are  intended  to  make  Vol.  II.  as  generally  ac 
cessible  and  understood  as  Vol.  I.,  and  as  (6)  very  few  of  those  here  first 
printed  have  headings,  or  the  Scripture-texts  only — we  have  deemed  it 
expedient  to  give  as  Contents  the  subjects  in  English.  The  Scholar-student 
will  find  the  Latin  headings  of  the  Author  in  their  places.  In  the  right- 
hand  margin  the  initials  of  the  respective  Translators  are  given;  on 
which  see  pp.  4-5,  and  Notes  to  the  successive  divisions.  [*]  on  left-hand 
margin  indicates  there  is  a  Greek  version  also  :  [t]  printed  for  first  time  : 
[t]  translated  for  first  time.  G. 

I.  SACRED  EPIGRAMS,  1-164. 
1634-1670. 

TliANS.        PAGE 

Note 2 

$         Dedication:  Latin,  pp.  7-11;  English     .         .  G.,  CL.  n 

£         To  the  Reader :  Latin,  pp.  16-22 ;  English      .  G.  22 

*     1.  Two  went  up  into  the  Temple  to  pray     .         .  CR.,  B.  35, 

2.  Upon  the  asse  that  bore  our  Saviour       .        .  CR.,  G.  36 

3.  The  Lord  'despised  and  rejected'  by  His  own 

people B.  37 

£    4.  The  cripple  at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda        .        .  CL.,  G.  37 

£    5.  Christ  to  Thomas CL.,  A.  38 

6.  Whosoever  will  lose  his  life  for  My  sake  shall 

find  it A.,  CR.  39,  206 

J    7.  Mary  Magdalene  early,  when  it  was  yet  dark, 

cometh  unto  the  sepulchre                         .  G.  40 

J    8.  On  the  miracle  of  multiplyed  loaves               .  G.  40 

9.  On  the  baptized  Ethiopian      ....  CR.,  B.  41 
10.  The  publican  standing  afar  off,  smote  on  his 

breast G.  42 

*$11.  The  widow's  mites CR.  43 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

TRANP.        PAGE 

12.  Mary,  which  also  sat  at  Jesus'  feet,  and  heard 

His  word G.  43 

13.  The  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  .  G.  44 

14.  On  the  Prodigall CR.  45 

15.  I  am  ready  not  to  be  bound  only,  but  to  dye1 .  CR.,  G.  45 

16.  On  Herod  worshipped  as  a  god,  eaten  of  worms  CL.  46 

17.  When  he  saw  the  wind  boisterous,  he  was 

afraid,  &c G.  46 

18.  He  offered  them  money CL.  47 

19.  The  shadow  of  St.  Peter  heals  the  sick  .  G.  47 

20.  The  dumbe  healed,  and  the  people  enjoyned 

silence CR.,  G.         48 

21.  And  a  certaine  priest  comming  that  way  looked 

on  him,  &c.      ......  CR.,  G.,  A. 

22.  The  ungrateful  lepers G. 

23.  Be  ye  not  fretted  about  to-morrow.         .         .  G.,  A. 

24.  Matthew  called  from  the  receipt  of  custom     .  R.  Wi. 

25.  The  dead  son  re-delivered  to  his  mother          .  CL. 

26.  It  is  better  to  go  into  heaven  with  one  eye,  &c.  CR.,  G. 

27.  The  man  ill  of  dropsy  cured    .         .         .         .  G. 

28.  There  was  no  room  for  them  in  the  Inn  .         .  G. 

29.  Upon  Lazarus  his  teares          ....  CR.,  G. 

30.  Caiphas  angry  that  Christ  confesses  He  is  the 

Christ G. 

31.  But  though  He  had  done  so  many  miracles,  &c.  CL. 

32.  To  S.  Andrew,  fisherman         .         .         .         .  G. 

33.  I  am  the  voice G. 

34.  The  chains  spontaneously  fall  off   .         .         .  G. 

35.  On  All-Saints'  Day R.  Wi. 

36.  Upon  the  Powder-day CR. 

37.  God  in  the  Virgin's  womb       .         .         .         .  R.  Wi. 

38.  To  the  Jews,  murderers  of  St.  Stephen   .         .  G. 

39.  St.  John  in  exile G. 

40.  yo  the  infant  martyrs CR.,  B. 

41.  The  blessed  Virgin  seeks  Jesus        .        .        .  G. 

42.  I  am  not  worthy,  &c.       .....  CR. 

43.  And  He  answered  them  nothing      .         .        .  CR.,  G. 

44.  Now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in  peace  CL. 

45.  The  Word  among  thorns         .         .         .         .  G. 

»  Crashaw's  version  is  inadvertently  inserted  here  instead  of  at  p.  201.   G. 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

TR^NS.       PAGE 

46.  The  Judaic  and  Christian  Sabbath  .  G.  66 

47.  The  blind  cured  by  the  word  of  our  Saviour    .  CR.  67 

48.  My  burden  is  light G.  67 

49.  Ou  the  miracle  of  loaves         .        .        .        .  CR.,  R.  Wi.  67  —•- 

50.  Now  we  know  Thee  to  have  a  devil  .  G.  68 

51.  On  the  blessed  Virgin's  bashfulness        .         .  CR.  69 

52.  On  the  wounds  of  our  crucified  Lord       .         .  R.  Wi.  69 

53.  Wherefore  eateth  your  Master  with  Publicans  ?  G.  71 

54.  Come,  see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay  ) 

Vpon  the  sepulchre  of  our  Lord    .        .  j          '  CK' 

55.  The  unthankful  lepers.  (Where  are  the  nine?)  G.  72 

56.  On  the  still-surviving  markes  of  our  Saviour's 

wounds    .......  CR.,  G.  73 

57.  The  sick  implore  St.  Peter's  shadow        .         .  CR.,  G.  74 

58.  Why  are  ye  troubled?  Behold  My  hands,  &c.  G.  75 

59.  The  chains  spontaneously  fell  from  Peter,  &c.  G.  75 

60.  From  his  body  there  were  brought  ....  hand 

kerchiefs,  &c R.  Wi.  76 

61.  Christ  the  Vine  to  the  Vinedresser-Father      .  G.  76 

62.  Almost  thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian  .  CL.  77 

63.  But  men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light       .  CR.,  B.,  G.    77  — •*• 

64.  Dives  asking  a  drop CR.  78 

65.  How  can  a  man  be  born  when  he  is  old?'         .  R.  Wi.  79 

66.  The  tree  dried  up  by  the  word  of  Christ          .  G.  80 

67.  Zacharias  incredulous CL.  80 

68.  On  the  water  of  our  Lord's  baptisme       .         .  CR.,  B.  81 

69.  Thebowed-down  woman  healed  by  the  Lord,  &c.  G.  81 

70.  Neither  durst  any  man  ....  ask   Him  any 

more  questions         .....  G.  82 

71.  St.  John  and  his  mother  .  B.  82 

72.  If  Thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  Thyself  down  B.  83 

73.  The  Lord  weeping  over  the  Jews  .  B.  83 

74.  Nor  even  as  this  publican  .  G.  84 

75.  On  Saul  blinded  with  too  much  light      .         .  R.  Wi.  84 

76.  Blessed  are  the  eyes  which  see        ...  B.,  G.  85 

77.  Her  son  is  delivered  to  his  mother  from  the 

bier R.  Wi.  85 

78.  On  the  wise  of  this  world       .        .        .        .  R.  Wi.  86 

79.  The  Jews  seeking  to  cast  Christ  headlong  from 

a  precipice       ......  G.  87 

80.  The  casting  down  of  the  dragon  .  G.  87 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

TRANS.        PAGE 

£    81.  The  blessed  Virgin  believing                          .  G.  87 

J    82.  Is  it  lawful  to  give  tribute  to  Caesar?    .         .  G.  88 
J    83.  The  minstrels  and  crowd  making  a  noise  about 

the  dead  .     " G.  89 

84.  The  fishermen  called B.,  G.,  A.     89 

85.  Give  to  Caesar  ....  and  to  God    .        .        .  CR.,  G.  90 

86.  The  Lord  borne  on  the  ass     .        .         .         .  B.,  R.  Wi.   90 

87.  They  shall  see  the  Son  of  Man  coming  in  a 

cloud        .......  G.  91 

88.  Except  I  shall  put  my  fingers,  &c.         .         .  G.  91 

89.  To  the  Jews  stoning  Stephen                           .  G.  92 

90.  To  St.  John  the  beloved  disciple  .        .        .  G.  92 

91.  Upon  the  infant  martyrs       .         .         .'       .  CR.,  G.  93 

92.  God  with  us G.  93 

93.  The  circumcision  of  Christ :  Vol.  I.  pp.  48-9 ; 

and CR.  94 

94.  The  Epiphany  of  our  Lord    ....  CL.  94 

95.  Lo,  we  have  sought  Thee,  &c.                         .  G.  95 

96.  Water  turned  into  wine         .         .         .         .  G.,  CL.,  A.    96 

97.  The  Lord  at  a  distance  heals  the  absent  ser 

vant,  &c G.  97 

98.  Why  are  ye  so  fearful  ?          .         .         .        .  B.  97 

99.  Now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in  peace  CL.  98 

100.  Good  seed  in  the  field G.  99 

101.  She  began  to  wash  His  feet,  &c.    .    .     .         .  CR.,  CL.        99 

102.  What  seekest  that  I  do  to  thee  ?    .         .         .  G.  100 

103.  The  silence  of  Christ  to  the  woman  of  Canaan  G.  101 

104.  Blessed  be  the  paps  which  Thou  hast  sucked  CR.  101 

105.  Christ  the  Vine  (including  the  branches)       .  G.  102 

106.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Yee  shall  weep  and 

lament CR.  102 

107.  Christ  the  good  Shepherd      .         .         .         .  B.,  CL.  103 

108.  On  the  wounds  of  the  crucified  Lord      .         .  CR.,  G.  104 

109.  Tfce  paralytic  healed G.  104 

110.  Then  took  they  up  stones       .         .         .         .  G.  105 

111.  On  the  Resurrection  of  the  Lord    .         .         .  R.  Wi.  105 

112.  But  some  doubted R.  Wi.  106 

113.  The  scars   of  the  wounds  which  the   Lord 

showed,  &c.      .         .         .         .         .        •  G.  106 

114.  John  sends  to  Jesus,  &c CL.  107 

«^*      115.  On  St.  Peter  cutting  off  Malchus  his  eare     .  CR.  108 


CONTENTS.  XV 

TRANS.  PAGE 

116.  The  withered  hand  healed     .        .        .        .  G.,  B.  108 

117.  To  Pontius  washing  his  hands       .         .         .  CR.,  B.  108 
J  118.  The  stater-giving  fish G.  109 

119.  I  have  overcome  the  world    .        .        .        .  B.,  A.  no 

J  120.  On  the  ascension  of  our  Lord         .        .        .  R.  Wi.  in 

*J121.  The  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit     .        .        .  G.  112 
J  122.  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  He  gave  His 

....  Son R.  Wi.  112 

£123.  I  have  bought  five  yoke  of  oxen   ,        .        .  G.  113 

J  124.  St.  Paul  healing  the  lame  man  with  a  word,  <fec.  R.  Wi.  113 
*  125.  To  the  sacred  Dove  alighting  on  the  head  of 

Christ W.  114 

4:  126.  The  doors  of  the  prison  self-opening  to  Peter  G.  115 

127.  The  Pharisees  murmured,  &c.        .         .         .  G.,  B.  116 

J  128.  On  the  beam  of  the  Pharisee        .        .        .  R.  Wi.  116 
+  129.  They  determined  ....  he  should  be  put  out 

of  the  synagogue A.  117 

130.  Concerning  the  prayer  of  the  sons  of  Zebedee  CL.,  B.  117 
J  131.  To  the  guests  at  the  miraculous  supper  of  the 

five  loaves        .        :        .        .        .        .  R.  Wi.  118 

J  132.  Christ  overcoming  the  world         .        .        .  G.  119 
133.  The  Grecian  disputants  go  about  to  kill  St. 

Paul R.  Wi.  119 

J  134.  He  that  is  greatest  among  you,  let  him  be  as 

the  younger B.  120 

J  135.  He  beheld  the  city,  and  wept  over  it     .        .  R.  Wi.  120 

136.  Christ  in  Egypt R.  Wi.  121 

£  137.  The  blind  confessing  Christ,  &c.   .        .        .  G.,  B.  i2i 

138.  If  any  man  will  come  after  Me,  &c.      .        .  G.  122 

139.  And  he  left  all ....  and  followed  Him        .  B.,  G.  122 

140.  Ye  build  the  sepulchres  of  the  Prophets        .  CR.,  G.  123 
J  141.  The  man  with  the  withered  hand,  &c.  .        .  G.  123 
J  142.  Luke  the  beloved  physician  .        .        .        .  B.,  A.  124 

143.  The  dropsical  man  thirsting  now  for  Christ  G.  125 

144.  To  the  assembly  of  all  the  Saints  .        .        .  W.,  A.  125 
J  145.  Christ  heals  in  absence          ....  CL.  127 

J  146.  The  man  born  blind B.,  A.  127 

J  147.  And  they  laughed  at  Him     .        .        .        .  G.  127 

$  148.  The  wisdom  of  the  world      .        .        .         .  CL.  128 

*J149.  On  the  stable  where  our  Lord  was  born         .  A.  128 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

TRANS.        PAGE 

150.  St.  Stephen  to  his  friends,  to  raise  no  monu 

ment        CL.  130 

151.  On  St.  John,  whom   Domitian  cast  into  a 

caldron,  &c CL.  130 

152.  The  infant-martyrs G.  131 

153.  They  brought  unto  Him  all  sick  people,  <fcc.  R.  Wr.  131 

154.  A  sword  shall  pierce  through  thy  own  soul   .  G.  132 

155.  On  the  blood  of  the  Lord's  circumcision        .  R.  Wi.  133 

156.  The  Child  Jesus  among  the  doctors       .        .  R.  Wi.  134 

157.  To  our  Lord,  upon  the  water  made  wine        .  CR.,  G.  135 

158.  The  Infant  Christ  is  presented  to  the  Father 

in  the  Temple R.  Wi. 

159.  The  leper  beseeching G. 

160.  Why  are  ye  afraid? CR.,  B. 

161.  They  teach  customs,  &c R.  Wi. 

!:162.  Command  that  this  stone  become  a  loaf        .  G. 

163.  The  woman  of  Canaan  .         .         .        .  R.  Wi. 

164.  Upon  the  dumbe  devill  cast  out,  &c.      .        .  CR. 

165.  They  said,  This  is  of  a  truth  that  Prophet    .  R.  Wi. 

166.  It  was  winter,  and  Jesus  walked  in  Solomon's 

porch R.  Wi. 

167.  They  gave  large  money  to  the  soldiers          .  R.  Wi. 

168.  To  the  blessed  Virgin :  concerning  the  angelic 

salutation R.  Wi. 

169.  To  Pontius  washing  his  blood-stained-  hands  CR. 

170.  On  the  day  of  the  Lord's  Passion          .        .  R.  Wi. 

171.  On  the  day  of  the  Lord's  Resurrection,  &c.   .  A. 

172.  On  the  scars  of  the  Lord  still  remaining       .  R.  Wi. 

173.  My  peace  I  give  unto  you      .        .        .        .  R.  Wi. 

174.  Paul's  conversion  and  blindness    .         .        .  CL. 

175.  I  am  the  Way,  &c R.  Wi. 

176.  On  the  night  and  winter  journey  of  the  Infant 

Lord        .        .        .        .        .        .        .  R.  Wi. 

177. 4!  do  not  say  that  I  will  pray  the  Father  for 

you A. 

*J178.  On  the  day  of  the  Lord's  Ascension  .  .  R.  Wi. 
*J179.  The  blind  man  implores  Christ  .  .  .  R.  Wi. 
*J180.  What  man  of  youhaving  an  hundred  sheep,  &c.  R.  Wi. 
*J181.  To  Herod  beheading  St.  James  .  .  .  R.  Wi. 
*£182.  The  blind  men  having  received  their  sight,  &c.  R.  Wi. 
*  183.  Zaecheus  in  the  sycamore-tree  .  .  .  R.  Wi. 


CONTENTS.  XV11 

TRANS.  PAGE 

184.  On  our  crucified  Lord,  naked  and  bloody       .  CR.  164 

185.  Sampson  to  his  Dalilah         .        .        .        •  CR.  164 

SECULAR  EPIGRAMS,  165-6. 

1.  Upon  Ford's  two  Tragedy es, '  Love's  Sacrifice' 

and 'The  Broken  Heart'      : 

2.  Vpon  the  Faire  Ethiopian,  &c. 

3.  On  marriage l6S  - 

4.  On  Nanus  mounted  upon  an  ant    .        .         .  J6S 

5.  Vpon  Venus  putting-on  Mars  his  armes         .  166 

6.  Vpon  the  same l66 

7.  Out  of  Martiall *66 

II.  SACRED  EPIGRAMS,  NEVER  BEFORE  PRINTED,  167-205. 

ft    1.  St.  Paul  and  the  viper                                    .  G.  169 

fj    2.  The  miracle  of  the  loaves      .        .         .         .  G.  169 

tj    3.  Of  the  tears  of  the  suffering  Christ       .         .  G.  170 

ft    4.  The  sepulchre  of  the  Lord                              .  G.  171 

fj    5.  The  parting  words  of  Love    .         .         .      * .  G.  172 

fj    6.  Herod  devoured  of  worms    .        .        .        .  G.  172 

fj    7.  It  is  good  to  be  here G.  173 

ft    8.  Look  on  the  lilies,  &c.           .        .        .        .  R.  Wi.  173 

tj    9.  The  deaf  healed R.  Wi.  173 

fj  10.  The  modesty  of  the  blessed  Virgin        .        .  G.  174 

fj  11.  I  send  you  as  lambs,  &c G.  174 

ft  12.  Christ  carried  by  the  devil                             .  G.  175 

tj  13.  St.  John  the  Baptist  a  voice          .        .        .  G.  175 

ft  14.  John  the  Voice,  Christ  the  Word          .  .      .  G.  176 

tJ  15.  On  the  birth  of  the  Lord,  &c.                           G.  176 

ft  16.  Of  the  '  blue-blood'  pride  of  the  Athenians    .  G.  177 

ft  17.  I  am  the  True  Vine G.  178 

fj  18.  The  departure  of  Christ  lamented,  &c.  .        .  G.  178 

•ft  19.  On  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit         .        .  R.  Wi.  179 

ft  20.  Life  and  Death G.  179 

t  21.  I  am  the  Doore CR.,  G.  180 

t  22.  Upon  the  thornes  taken  downe  from  our  Lord's 

head,  &c CR.,  G.  181 

t$  23.  Nicodemus G.  181 

•ft  24.  To  Domitian,  concerning  St.  John,  &c.         .  R.  Wi.  183 

fj  25.  The  voice  of  the  Baptist                                 .  G.  183 

ft  26.  On  St.  Peter  loosed  by  the  angel  .        .        .  R.  Wi.  184 


XV111  CONTENTS. 

TRANS.  PAGE 

t  27.  On  St.  Peter  casting  away  his  nets,  &c.        .  CR.,  G.  184 

ft  28.  The  Lamb  of  God,  &c G.  185 

tj  29.  The  miraculous  draught  of  fishes .        .        .  G.  186 

tt  30.  Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  Ac G.  186 

ft  31.  Though  they  beheld  so  many  miracles,  &c.   .  G.  186 

ft  32.  On  the  cloud  which  received  the  Lord  .         .  R.  Wi.  187 

t+  33.  He  saw  the  city,  and  wept  over  it         .        .  G.  188 

ft  34.  Nor  even  as  this  publican      .         .        .        .  R.  Wi.  199 

ft  35,  His  Disciples  came  and  awoke  Him      .        .  R.  "Wi.  189 

fit  36.  The  woman  of  Canaan G.  189 

fj  37.  Wherefore  sitteth  your  Master  with  sinners, 

&c G.  191 

fj  38.  Miracles  of  healing,  &c G.  191 

tt  39.  To  St.  Luke  the  physician     .        .         .        .  R.  Wi.  192 

ft  40.  He  bears  His  own  cross         .        .        .        .  G.  193 

t  41.  Upon  our  Lord's  last  comfortable  discourse, 

&c CR.,  G.  194 

t+  42.  And  they  spat  upon  Him       .         .         .        .  G.  194 

t  J  43.  He  besought  that  He  would  go  with  him,  &c.  G.  194 

t-t  44.  For  dread  came  upon  him,  &e.        .         .        .  G.  196 

t  45.  But  now  they  have  seen  and  hated         .        .  CR.,  G.  196 

ft  46.  The  blind  suppliant G.  197 

ft  47.  The  Pharisees  insidiously  watching,  &c.        .  G.  199 

ft  48.  Touched  the  hem  of  His  garment,  <fcc.   .         .  R.  Wi.  200 

ft  49.  The  departing  Saviour R.  Wr.  200 

ft  50.  Paul  unfearing  [page  45,  and]       .        .         .  G.  201 

ft  51.  The  message  of  the  Baptist  to  Christ    .        .  R.  Wi.  202 

fj  52.  Gifts  to  Jesus R.  Wi.  202 

ft  53.  On  the  blessed  Virgin's  easy  parturition        .  R.  Wi.  203 

•j*  54.  Upon  our  Saviour's  tombe,  &e.       .        .        .  CR.,  G.  204 

1 1  55.  On  the  Holy  Spirit  descending,  &c.       .        .  R.  Wi.  205 

f  56.  Life  for  death CR.  205 

1 1  57.  On  the  Divine  love CR.  205 

III.  LATIN  POEMS.    PART  FIRST  :  SACRED.    HITHERTO 

UNCOLLECTED,  207-218. 

J  Faith,  which  alone  justifies,  exists  not  without  hope 

and  love      .        .        .        .        .        .        .  G.  209 

|  Baptism  cancels  not  after-sins       ....  CL.  216 


CONTENTS.  XIX 
FV.  LATIN  POEMS.    PART  FIRST  :  SACRED.    NEVER  BEFORE 

PRINTED,  219-242. 

TRANS.  PAGE 

f  Psalm  1 221 

fj  Wrath  of  the  judgment- whirl  wind       .        .         .  R.  Wi.  221 

tj  Even  so :  come,  Lord  Jesus R.  Wi.  223 

fj  Circumcision  of  Christ R.  Wi.  225 

ft  The  Virgin  Mary,  on  losing  the  Child  Jesus        .  R.  Wi.  229 

ft  War  in  heaven R.  Wi.  231 

tj  We  do  not  receive,  but  make,  a  short  life   .        .  R.  Wi.  233 

tJ  Martyrs R.  Wi.  235 

ft  Hope R.  Wi.  237 

fj  On  Stephen's  crown R.  Wi.  239 

J  Jesus  Christ's  expostulation  with  an  ungrateful 

world R.  Wi.  241 

LATIN  POEMS.    PART  SECOND  :  SECULAR,  243-92. 
I.  From  '  Steps  to  the  Temple1  and  '  Delights  of  the  Miises' 

J  The  Bubble G.  247 

J  Peace  of  mind,  under  the  similitude  of  a  captive 

song-bird G.  258 

J  Gain  out  of  loss G.  263 

J  Description  of  human  life R.  Wi.  266 

|  On  Pygmalion A.,  G.  269 

J  Arion G.  273 

J  On  Apollo  pining  for  Daphne         .        .        .        .  G.  279 

J  ^Eneas  the  bearer  of  his  father                                .  G.  283 

J  Of  the  generation  and  regeneration  of  the  Phoenix  G.  284 

£  Epitaph A.,  G.  286 

J  Elegy R.  Wi.  289 

J  Woman  a  treasury  of  evils     .                .        .        .  G.  290 

LATIN  POEMS.    PART  SECOND  :  SECULAR.    NEVER  BEFORE 

PRINTED,  293-330. 

II.  Miscellaneous  and  Commemorative. 

ft  The  beautiful  not  lasting G.  296 

fj  A  hymn  to  Venus.       .        .        .        .        .        .  G.  300 

f  £  A  description  of  Spring R.  Wi.  303 

f  £  Priscianus  beaten  and  being  beaten     .        .        .  R.  Wi.  308 

ft  To  a  Tractate  on  this  subject,  (fee.        .        .        .  R.  Wi.  315 

f  Purgation    ........  317    -., 


XX  CONTENTS. 

TRANS.        PAGE 

ft  To  my  most  estimable  preceptor  . . .  R.  Brooke  .  R.  Wi.  319 

J  On  death  of  Rev.  Dr.  Mansell    .        .        .        .  R.  Wi.  323 
£  To  the  Right  Hon.  Lord  Robert  Heath,  on  being 

made  a  judge,  &c R.  Wi.  326 

t  Ode  on  Horace,  Lib.  ii.  13,  in  Greek    .         .         .  329 

LATIN  POEMS.     PART  SECOND:  SECULAR,  331-84. 
III.  Royal  and  Academical. 

The  Return  of  the  King A.  333 

To  the  royal  Infant  not  yet  born         .         .        .  R.  Wi.  335 

To  the  King  on  recovery  from  small-pox   .        .  R.  Wi.  337 

To  her  serene  Majesty  child-bearing  in  winter   .  R.  Wi.  339 

To  the  Queen CL.  342 

To  the  Queen  .  .  .  from  the  university         .        .  R.  Wi.  345 

On  birth  of  Princess  Mary CL.  346 

On  the  same R.  Wi.  350 

To  the  Queen R.  Wi.  354 

The  prayer  of  Peterhouse  for  the  House  of  God 

[—its  chapel] S.  S.  357 

A  groan  on  occasion  of  the  difficult  parturition  of 

the  remaining  works  of  Peterhouse     .        .  R.  Wi.,  G.  362 

To  the  venerable  man,  Master  Tournay,  &c.         .  CL.  371 

To  Master  Brooke R.  Wi.  374 

Epitaph  on  Dr.  Brooke        .         .        .        .         .  R.  Wi.  376 

Epitaph  on  William  Herries        .         .         .         .  G.  378 

On  the  same R.  Wi.  383 

On  the  Portrait  of  Bishop  Andrewes  .        .        .  CR.  384 

Glossarial  Index .......  385 

ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  VOL.  II.  4TO. 
Photograph  of  the  Cartoon  for  the  memorial- 
window  to  Crashaw  in  Peterhouse,  by  F. 

Madox-Brown,  Esq.  R.A facing  title-page. 

The  captive  Song-bird,  by  Mrs.  Blackburn     .  vignette  to  Essay. 

Vignette  illustrations,  by  W.  J.  Linton,  Esq.  pp.  96,  242,  251,  295, 

329.  35°.  373.  377- 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND  POETRY  OF 
CRASHAW.1 


IN  our  Memorial-Introduction  (vol.  i.  p.  xxvi.)  we  make 
two  promises,  which  fall  now  to  be  redeemed  : 

(a)  A  STUDY  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  POETRY  OF  RICHARD 
GRASHAW. 

(6)  A  MEMOIR  OF  WILLIAM  CRASHAW,  B.D.,  HIS  FA 
THER. 

The  latter  is  in  so  many  ways  elucidative  and  illumi 
native  of  the  former,  outwardly  and  inwardly,  that  I  deem 
it  well  to  give  it  first. 

I.  MEMOIR  OF  WILLIAM  CRASHAW,  B.D. 

The  late  laborious  and  accurate  Joseph  Hunter,  in  his 
MS.  collections  yclept  Chorus  Yatum,  which  by  rare  good 
fortune  are  preserved  in  the  British  Museum  (Addl.  MSS. 
24.487,  pp.  34-39),  thus  begins,  s.n. 

1 1  am  here  introducing  a  name  which  may  be  said 
to  be  hitherto  unknown  in  the  regions  of  Poetry,  and 
which  has  been  unaccountably  passed  over  by  biographical 
writers  of  every  class  ;  yet  one  who  has  just  claims  on  our 
attention  of  his  own  as  well  as  in  being  the  father  of 
Richard  Crashaw,  whose  merits  are  admitted ;'  and  he 

1  See  p.  261  (11.  13-14  of  the  Poem)  for  the  subject  of  the  abave 
vivid  illustration  of  the  captive  Bird,  by  Mrs.  Blackburn,  as  before, 
specially  for  us  (in  4to). 

VOL.  ii.  a  3 


XX11  ESS  AT   ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

continues  with  a  pleasant  egotism  that/ one  can  readily 
pardon,  '  and  he  has  particular  claims  upon  me,  as  having 
been  a  native  of  the  part  of  the  kingdom  from  which  I 
spring,  and  bearing  a  name  which  is  that  of  a  numerous 
family  from  whom  I  descend.' 

We  shall  find  onward,  that  the  elder  Crashaw  had  a 
v  unique  gift  of  Poetry  ;  but  independent  of  that,  a  some 
what  prolonged  acquaintance  with  his  numerous  books 
enables  us  emphatically  to  ratify  the  'claims'  of  'his  own"1 
otherwise — though  in  strong,  even  fierce,  antagonism  as 
Divine  and  Writer  to  his  gentle-natured  son's  after- 
opinions. 

Hitherto,  in  the  brief  and  meagre  notices  of  his  son, 
and  of  the  paternal  Crashaw,  it  has  simply  been  stated 
that  he  was  a  '  Yorkshireman.'  This  is  mentioned  inci 
dentally  in  various  places.  We  are  now  enabled  by  the 
interest  in  our  researches  of  local  Antiquaries,  together 
with  aid  from  the  Hunter  and  Cole  MSS.,  to  give  for  the 
first  time  family -details.  Handsworth,  sometimes  spelled 
Hansworth,  near  Sheffield,  one  of  the  hamlets  of  England 
in  the  '  Black  Country' — once  couched  among  green  fields 
and  hedge-row  '  lanes,'  though  now  blighted  and  be 
grimed — was  the  '  nest'  of  the  Crashaws  ;  and  there  and 
in  the  neighbourhood  the  name  is  met  with  until  compar 
atively  recent  times.1  The  Church-Register  goes  back  to 
1558,  and  under  Baptisms,  Aug.  24th,  1568,  is  this  entry, 
'  Thomas,  son  of  Richard  Crawshaw,  baptised  ;'  and,  alas, 
under  the  following  '  November  14th,'  '  Thomas,  son  of 
Richard  Ctawshaw,  buried.'  Next  comes  our  Worthy  : 

'  1572,  October  26th,  WILL.,  son  of  Richard  Crawshaw, 
baptised.'  There  follow  :  January  12th,  1574,  'Francis  ;' 
November  24th,  1577,  '  Ann'— both  baptised  ;  April  26th 
1585,  'Richard,'  son  of  Richard,  buried;  1591,  'Robert 

1  Not  to  be  confounded  with  Handsworth  in  Staffordshire,  or 
Hensworth  near  Doncaster. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  XX111 

Eairl  [s/c]  and  Dorothy  Crawshaw  married;'  1608, Novem 
ber  20th,  'Hellen  Crawshaw,  widow,  buried.'  Then  in  1609, 
1611,  1613,  1615,  1619,  1623,  1627,  entries  concerning  the 
'  Francis'  of  1574  and  his  household.  The  name  does  not 
reappear  until  1682,  January  1st,  when  '  William,  son  of 
"William  Crawshaw,  is  '  baptised  ;'  and  so  the  usual  record 
of  the  light  and  shadow  of  '  Births  and  Marriages  and 
Deaths'  goes  on  until  July  22d,  1729. 

It  appears  from  these  Register-data  that  the  father 
of  our  William  Crashaw  was  named  '  Richard,'  and  that 
he  died  in  April  1585,  when  Master  William  was  pass 
ing  his  13th  year.  It  also  appears  that  his  mother  was 
named  'Hellen,'  and  that  she  died  as  '  a  widow'  in  Novem 
ber  1608.  In  addition  to  these  entries,  I  have  discovered 
that  this  '  Hellen '  was  daughter  of  John  Routh,  of  Wales- 
wood  ;  a  name  of  mark  in  Yorkshire,  in  itself  and  through 
marriages.1  That  we  are  right  in  all  this  is  made  certain 
by  his  Will,  wherein  our  Crashaw  (pater}  leaves  '  to  the 
parishe  of  Hansworth,  in  Com.  Ebor.,  where  I  was  borne, 
my  owne  works,  all  to  be  bounde  together,  to  lye  in  the 
churche  ;  and  fourty  shillings  in  monye  to  the  stocke  of 
the  poor  of  that  parishe.'2  So  far  as  I  can  gather  from 

1  In  his  Will  (as  before)  he  leaves  '  to  my  aunt  Rowthe  my  owne 
works.'  She  was  Dorothy,  daughter  of  John  Eyre,  of  Laughton,  co. 
York. 

2  Mr.  Hunter  cannot  have  gone  about  his  inquiries  at  Hands- 
worth  with  his  usual  persistence,  for  he  says  (as  supra),  'I  conjecture 
that  he  may  have  been  born  about  1575,  but  I  do  not  remember  of 
his  baptism  in  my  extracts  from  the  Parish  Register  of  Hansworth, 
nor  indeed  any  notice  of  the  name  of  Crashaw,'  &c.     The  Register, 
as  shown  above,  abounds  in  the  name  of  Crashaw.     For  the  'con 
jecture'  of  1575  it  is  gratifying  to  be  able  to  substitute  the  baptism- 
record  in  1572.     Later,  indeed,  Mr.  Hunter  discovered  his  mistake. 
It  is  not  very  creditable  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Gatty  that  in  his  edition  of 
Hunter's  '  Hallamshire'— a  district  which  includes  Handsworth — he 
has  left  the  interesting  facts  laid  to  his  hand  unused.    Surely  it  was 
worth  while1  to  claim  Crashaw  as  sprung  of  Handsworth. 


XXIV  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

several  family -tables  which  have  been  furnished  to  me, 
the  Kichard  Crashaw,  father  of  our  William  Crashaw,  was 
son  of  another  Richard  Crashaw,  who  in  turn  was  Rector 
of  Aston,  next  parish  to  Handsworth,  in  1539.  Thus,  if 
not  of  '  blue  blood'  in  the  heraldic  sense,  the  Crashaws 
must  have  been  well-to-do  ;  for  they  are  found  not  only 
intermarrying  with  good  Yorkshire  families,  but  also  oc 
cupying  considerable  social  status  :  e.  g.  a  son  of  Francis 
—  described  as  of  Hansworth  -  Woodhouse,  a  hamlet  of 
Hansworth  —  brother  of  William,  was  admitted  to  the 
freedom  of  the  Cutlers'  Company  of  Sheffield  in  1638,  and 
was  Master  in  1675.  I  have  lineal  descents  brought  down 
to  the  present  year  ;  and  the  annals  of  the  House  may 
hold  their  own  in  family-histories.1  Our  Worthy  had 
life-long  intercourse  and  life-long  friendships  with  the 
foremost  in  Yorkshire,  as  his  Will  genially  and  quaintly 
testifies. 

Fatherless  in  his  13th- 14th  year,  his  widowed  mother 
must  have  been  in  circumstances  pecuniarily  that  enabled 
her  to  have  William,  at  least,  'prepared'  for  the  Univer 
sity.  He  was  of  renowned  '  St.  John's,'  Cambridge,  de 
signated  by  him  his  '  deere  nurse  and  spirituall  mother.'2 
A  MS.  note  by  Thomas  Baker,  in  his  copy  of  '  Romish 
Forgeries  and  Falsifications'  (1606),  now  in  the  Library  of 
St.  John's,  furnishes  almost  the  only  definite  notice  of  his 
University  career  that  I  have  met  with,  as  follows  :  '  Guil. 
Crashawe  Eboracensis  admissus  socius  Coll.  Jo.  pro  Dim 
Fundatrice,  authoritate  Regia,  sede  vacante  Epi.  Elien. 
19  Jan.  1593.'3  Such  is  the  '  entry'  as  given  by  Baker  ; 

1  I  have  very  specially  to  thank  Dr.  Henry  Hunter,  of  Taun- 
ton,  the  Rector  of  Handsworth  (Rev.  John  Hand,  M.A.),  and  Mr. 
Henry  Cadman,  of  Ballifield  Hall,  for  continued  help  in  these  local 
searches  and  recoveries.  Dugdale's  l  Visitation  of  Yorkshire'  (under 
Straffnrd  and  Tickhill  Wapentake)  has  other  Crashaws. 

a  His  Will,  as  before. 

3  Communicated  by  W.  Aldis  Wright,  Esq.  M.A.,  as  before.  The 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  XXV 

but  in  the  original  it  is  as  follows  :  '  Gulielmus  Chrashawe 
Eboracensis  admissus  sum  sisator  pro  Mr0.  Alveye  Maij  1°, 
1591.'  The  Master  and  each  senior  Fellow  chose  sizars  at 
this  date.  Again  :  '  Ego  Gulielmus  Crashawe  Eboracensis 
admissus  sum  socius  huius  Collegij  pro  domina  f  uudatrice, 
Authoritate  regia,  sede  vacante  Episcopi  Eliensis,  19° 
Januarij  1593'  [i.e.  1593-4].  The  Bishop  of  Ely  had  the 
right  of  nominating  one  Fellow.1  The  See  of  Ely  was 
vacant  from  the  death  of  Bishop  Richard  Cox,  22d  July 
1581,  to  the  occupancy  of  Martin  Heton  in  1598-9.  Hence 
it  came  that  the  Queen  presented  Crashaw  to  the  fellow 
ship  of  St.  John's.  (See  Baker's  St...  John's,  by  Mayor 
(vol.  i.  p.  438),  for  more  details.)  This  was  somewhat  late. 
How  he  obtained  the  patronage  of  Elizabeth  does  not 
appear.  The  entry  in  '  White  Vellum  Book'  of  the  College 
Treasury  runs  simply,  '  Being  crediblie  informed  of  the 
povertie  and  yet  otherwise  good  qualities  and  sufficiencie 
of  Wm.  Crashaw,  B.A.'  &c.  The  opening  paragraphs  of  his 
Will  characteristically  recount  his  successive  ecclesiastical 
appointments  and  preferments,  and  hence  will  fittingly 
come  in  here.  '  In  the  name  of  the  true  and  everlivinge 
God,  Amen.  I  William  Crashawe,  Bachelor  in  Divinitie, 
Preacher  of  God's  Worde.  Firste  at  Bridlington,  then  at 
Beverley  in  Yorkshire.  Afterwards  at  the  Temple  ;  since 
then  Pastor  of  the  Churche  of  Ag[nes]  Burton,  in  the  dio 
cese  of  Yorke  ;  nowe  Pastor  of  that  too  greate  Parishe  of 
White-Chappell  in  the  suburbs  of  London  :  the  unworthye 
and  unprofitable  servante  of  God,  make  and  ordaine  this 
my  last  Will  and  Testament.'  Previous  to  the  death  of 
Elizabeth  he  had  been  '  deprived1  of  a  '  little  vicarage'  ('  A 
Discourse  on  Popish  Corruptions  requiring  a  Kingly  Re 
formation  :'  MS.  in  Royal  Library).  Inquiries  at  Bridling- 


remainder  of  the  note  refers  to  after-matters  not  necessary  to  be  re- 
corded  here. 

1  Communicated  to  me  by  Professor  Mayor,  of  Cambridge. 


XXVI  ESSAY  OX  THE  LIFE  AND 

ton,  formerly  Burlington,  and  the  several  places  named, 
have  resulted  in  nothing,  from  the  destruction  of  muni 
ments,  &c.  In  the  earlier  he  must  have  been  'Curate' 
only.  His  many  legacies  of  his  '  owne  workes,'  which  were 
to  '  lye'  in  many  churches,  have  all  perished,  or  at  least 
disappeared  ;  and  equally  so  his  various  '  monyes'  for  the 
'  poore.'  It  is  sorrowful  to  find  how  so  very  often  like 
provisions  are  discovered  to  have  gone  out  of  sight,  to 
an  aggregate  few  indeed  suspect. 

With  Agnes  Burton  he  had  closer  relations,  inasmuch 
as  one  '  item'  of  his  Will  runs  :  '  The  next  avoydance  of 
Ag.  Burton,  taken  in  my  brother's  name  (for  which  he 
knoweth  what  hath  byn  offered),  I  give  and  bequeathe  the 
same  to  my  said  brother  Thomas,  to  be  by  him  disposed  to 
some  worthy  man.' 

He  describes  'Mr.  Henry  Alvay,"  the  famous  Puritan,' 
as  liis  '  ffather  in  Christ,'  in  bequeathing  him  '  one  siluer 
pott  with  a  cover  loose,  parcell  guilt,  of  about  13  ounces.'1 
When,  or  from  whom,  he  received  '  orders'  and  ordina 
tion  does  not  appear,  but  what  our  Worthy  became  as  a 
Preacher  his  '  Sermons'  remain  to  attest.  They  attest  his 
evangelical  fervour  even  to  passion,  his  intense  convic 
tions,  his  wistful  tenderness  alternated  with  the  most  vehe 
ment  rebuke  of  fashionable  sins  and  worldliness,  his  deep 
personal  love  for  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  a  strangely  pathetic 
yearning  for  all  men  to  be  '  safe'  in  Him.  He  had  a  kind 
of  holy  ubiquity  of  zeal  in  occupying  pulpits  where  '  wit 
ness'  was  to  be  borne  '  for  the  Truth.'  His  motto,  found 
in  a  copy  of  Valerius  Maximus,  and  elsewhere,  was  '  Ser- 
vire  Deo  regnare  est'  (Notes  and  Queries,  3d  S.  vii.  111). 
America  ought  to  prize  his  Sermon  '  Preached  in  London 
before  the  Right  Honourable  the  Lord  Lawarre,  Lord 
Governour  and  Captaine  Generall  of  Virginia,  and  others 
of  his  Maiestie's  Counsell  for  that  Kingdome,  and  the  rest 

>  On  Alvey,  see  Brook's  Puritans,  ii.  85-6. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  XXV11 

of  the  Adventurers  in  that  Plantation.  At  the  said  Lord 
Generall  his  leaue-taking  of  England,  his  natiue  coun- 
trey,  and  departure  for  Virginia,  February  21,  1609.  By 
W.  Crashaw,  Bachelar  of  Divinitie,  and  Preacher  at  the 
Temple.  Wherein  both  the  lawfulnesse  of  that  Action  is 
maintained,  and  the  necessity  thereof  is  also  demonstrated, 
and  so  much  out  of  the  grounds  of  Policie,  as  of  Hu 
manity,  Equity  and  Christianity.  Taken  from  his  mouth, 
and  published  by  direction.'  1G10.  The  running  heading 
is  'A  New  Yeere's  Gift  to  Virginea.'  The  text  is  St.  Luke 
xxii.  32  :  '  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not : 
and  when  thou'art  converted,  strengthen  thy  brethren.' 
There  is  no  nobler  Sermon  than  this  of  the  period ;  and 
it  is  only  one  of  various  equally  eloquent,  impressive,  and 
powerful.  Politically  the  Preacher  saw  far  ahead,  and 
his  patriotism  is  chivalrous  as  Sidney's.  Dr.  Donne  later 
preached  for  the  same  Virginia  Company.  He  had  '  sought' 
to  go  as  secretary  in  the  outset. 

Our  Worthy  was  twice  married.  Of  his  first  wife — 
mother  of  Richard,  our  '  sweet  Singer'— I  have  failed  ut 
terly  to  get  so  much  as  her  name.  Of  his  second  wife 
there  remains  a  privately-printed  tractate  entitled  '  The 
Honovr  of  Vertve,  or  the  Monument  erected  by  the 
sorowf ull  Husband,  and  the  Epitaphes  annexed  by  learned 
and  worthy  men,  to  the  immortall  memory  of  that  worthy 
gentlewoman  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Crashawe.  Who  dyed  in 
child-birth,  and  was  buried  in  Whit-Chappell,  October  8, 
1620.  In  the  24  yeare  of  her  age.'  Of  inconceivable  in 
terest  would  this  remarkable  tractate  have  been,  had  this 
been  the  Poet's  mother  ;  but  the  date  shows  that  Hunter, 
in  his  '  Chorus  Vatum,'  and  others,  are  mistaken  in  their 
statement  that  she  was  such.  Richard  Crashaw  was  born 
in  1612-3,  while  the  '  Epitaphes'  and  other  allusions  touch- 
ingly  inform  us  that  this  fatal  '  child-birth '  was,  '  as  she 
most  surely  expected,'  of  her  only  child.  The  great  Usher 


XXV111  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

preached  her  funeral-sermon,  '  at  which  Sermon  and  Fu- 
nerall  was  present  one  of  the  greatest  Assemblies  that 
ever  was  seene  in  man's  memorie  at  the  buriall  of  any 
priuate  person.'  The  illustrious  Preacher — who  'vseth,' 
the  Memorial  says,  '  to  be  very  wary  and  modeste  in  com 
mendation' — is  very  full  and  articulate  in  his  praises  of 
the  dead.  One  bit  we  read  with  wet  eyes ;  for  among  other 
traits  Usher  praises  '  her  singular  motherly  affection  to  the 
child  of  her  predecessor — a  rare  vertue  [as  he  noted]  in 
step-mothers  at  this  day.'1  One  can  scarcely  avoid  a  sigh 
that  such  a  '  step-mother'  was  not  spared  to  such  a  '  child.' 
No  '  quick'  name  is  found  to  any  of  the  Verse,  nor  is  the 
Verse  intrinsically  very  memorable,  except  for  its  wealth 
of  sympathy  towards  the  Widower.2 

1  From  the  '  Honovr  of  Vertve'  we  also  learn  that  Usher  had 
baptised  our  Richard ;  another  very  interesting  fact.  We  give  the 
opening  words,  after  the  monumental  inscription:  'The  Funerall 
Sermon  was  made  by  Doctor  Vsher  of  Ireland,  then  in  England, 
and  now  Lord  Bishop  of  Meath,  in  Ireland.  It  was  her  owne  earnest 
request  to  him,  that  he  would  preach  at  the  baptisme  of  her  sonne. 
as  he  had  eight  yeares  afore,  being  then  also  in  England,  at  the  bap 
tisme  of  her  husband's  elder  sonne.  Now  because  it  proued  to  be  both 
the  baptisme  of  the  sonne  and  buriall  of  the  mother,  as  she  often 
said  it  would,  he  therefore  spake  out  of  this  text,  1  Sam.  iv.  2.'  It  will 
be  noticed  that  'eight  years'  from  1620  take  us  back  to  1612-13,  our 
Crashaw's  birth-year.  I  add  farther  this  on  Mrs.  Crashaw :  '  Being 
yong,  faire,  comely,  brought  vp  as  a  gentlewoman,  in  musick,  danc 
ing,  and  like  to  be  of  great  estate,  and  therefore  much  sought  after 
by  yong  gjllants  and  rich  heires,  and  good  joinctures  offered,  yet 
she  chose  a  Divine  twise  her  owne  age.' 

8  The  longest  poem  is  anonymous.  It  commences  with  a  curious 
enumeration  of  popular  'omens'  supposed  to  precede  death  or  misfor 
tune.  The  lines  onward  put  some  of  the  sweet  commonplaces  of  our 
Literature  very  well : 

'  Her  time  was  short,  the  longer  is  her  rest ; 
God  takes  them  i-oonest  whom  He  loveth  best  ; 
For  he  that's  borne  to-day  and  dyes  to-morrow 
Looseth  some  dayes  of  ioy,  but  yeares  of  sorrow.' 

A  fragment,  of  it  is  in  the  Dr.  Farmer  Chetham  MS.  (as  edited  by  us). 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  XXIX 

Of  our  Worthy's  numerous  Writings  I  have  made  out 
a  careful  enumeration,  inasmuch  as  the  usual  bibliographi 
cal  authorities  (as  Lowndes  and  Hazlitt)  are  exceedingly 
empty  ;  but  I  must  utilise  it  elsewhere,  seeing  that  such  a 
catalogue  of  (for  the  most  part)  violent  invective  against 
Popery  were  incongruous  in  an  edition  of  the  Poetry  of 
his  so  opposite-minded  son.  These  three  out  of  our  col 
lection  will  show  that  Popery  was  the  supreme  object 
of  his  aversion ;  and  even  the  full  title-pages  give  but  a 
poor  idea  of  the  out-o'-way  learning — for  he  was  a  scholar 
among  scholars — the  grave  wit,  the  sarcasm,  the  shrewd 
sense,  and,  alas,  the  uncharity  of  these  and  kindred  ser 
mons  and  books.  The  first  is  this,  but  from  a  later  edition, 
for  a  reason  that  will  appear :  '  Loyola's  Disloyalty  ;  or 
the  lesvites'  open  Rebellion  against  God  and  His  Church. 
Whose  Doctrine  is  Blasphemie,  in  the  highest  degree, 
against  the  blood  of  Christ,  which  they  Vilifie,  and  under  - 
valew,  that  they  might  uphold  their  Merits.  By  Conse 
quent,  encouraging  all  Traytors  to  kill  their  lawf ull  Kings 
and  Princes.  With  divers  other  Principles  and  Heads  of 
their  damnable  and  erronious  Doctrine.  Worthy  to  be 
written  and  read  in  these  our  doubtfull  and  dangerous 
times.  1643'  (4to).  This  was  originally  issued  as  '  The 
lesvites'  G-ospell'  (1610),  and  in  1621  and  1641  as  '  The 
Bespotted  Jesuit.'  Be  it  specially  noted  that  Crashaw 
himself  must  not  be  made  responsible  for  the  after  title- 
pages.1  Next  is  this  :  '  The  Parable  of  Poyson.  In  Five 

1  The  title-page  of  the '  lesvites'  Gospell,'  is  extremely  disingenu 
ous,  as  there  is  no  hint  whatever  of  a  prior  publication,  and  the  word 
ing  indeed  is  such  as  to  make  it  seem  that  the  Author,  though  4ead 
well-nigh  a  quarter  of  a  century  at  the  time,  was  still  living ;  for  it 
thus  runs :  '  By  W.  C.  And  now  presented  to  the  Honourable  the 
House  of  Commons  in  Parliament  Assembled'  (1641).  Crashaw 
senior  was  Ultra- Protestant,  but  he  is  made  insulting  and  offensive 
beyond  his  intention,  as  his  own  title-pages  show.  Any  title-page 
after  1626  was  not  his. 


XXX  ESSAY  OX  THE  LIFE  AND 

Sermons  of  Spirituall  Poyson,  &c.  Wherein  the  poy- 
sonfull  Nature  of  Sinne,  and  the  Spirituall  Antidotes 
against  it,  are  plainely  and  brefely  set  downe.  Begun  be 
fore  the  Prince  his  Highnesse.  Proceeded  in  at  Greye's 
Inne  and  the  Temple,  and  finished  at  St.  Martin's  in 
the  fields.  By  William  Crashaw,  Batcheler  of  Diuin- 
ity,  and  Preacher  of  God's  word.  1G181  (4to).  The  Epis 
tle-dedicatory  is  dated  from  Agnes  Burton,  Yorkshire. 
'  The  ioyfull  5  of  Nouember,  the  day  neuer  to  be  for 
gotten.'  The  third  is  this  :  'The  New  Man,  or  a  Svp- 
plication  from  an  vnknowne  Person,  a  Roman  Catholike, 
vnto  lames,  the  Monarch  of  Great  Brittaine,  and  from 
him  to  the  Emperour,  Kings,  and  Princes  of  the  Chris 
tian  World.  Touching  the  causes  and  reasons  that  will 
argue  a  necessity  of  a  Generall  Councell  to  be  fortwith 
assembled  against  him  that  now  vsurps  the  Papall  Chaire 
vnder  the  name  of  Paul  the  fifth.  Wherein  are  disco  - 
uered  more  of  the  secret  Iniquities  of  that  Chaire  and 
Court,  then  hitherto '  their  friends  feared,  or  their  very 
aduersaries  did  suspect.  Translated  into  English  by  Wil 
liam  Crashaw,  Batchelour  in  Diuinity,  according  to  the 
Latine  Copy,  sent  from  Rome  into  England.  1622' 
(4to).  Other  of  these  controversial  tractates,  or  '  Fly  tings1 
(Scotice),  are  more  commonly  known,  and  need  not  de 
tailed  notice  from  us.  That  the  'ruling  passion'  was 
'strong'  to  the  end,  appears  by  the  already  repeatedly 
named  Will,  the  opening  of  which  has  been  given,  and 
which  tnus  continues  :  '  For  my  religion,  I  prof esse  myself 
in  lief  and  deathe  a  Christian,  and  the  crosse  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  my  glorye,  and  His  sufferings  my  salvation.  I 
renounce  and  abhorre  Atheisme,  ludaisme,  Turcisme,  and 
all  heresies  against  the  Holy  and  Catholike  faithe,  oulde 
and  newe,  and  (namelye)  Poperie,  beinge  as  nowe  it  is 
established  by  the  canons  of  Trent  and  theyr  present 
allowed  decrees  and  doctors,  lyke  a  confused  body  of  all 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  XXXI 

heresies.'  And  again :  ' I  accounte  Poperie  (as  it  nowe  \/' 
is)  the  heape  and  chaos  of  all  heresies,  and  the  channell 
whereunto  the  fowlest  impieties  and  heresies  that  have 
bene  in  the  Christian  worlde  have  runne  and  closelye 
emptied  themselves.  I  beleeve  the  Pope's  seate  and  power 
to  be  the  power  of  the  greate  Antichrist,  and  the  doctrine 
of  the  Pope  (as  nowe  it  is)  to  be  the  doctrine  of  Anti 
christ  ;  yea,  that  doctrine  of  devills  prophesied  of  by  the 
Apostles,  and  that  the  trve  and  absolute  Papist,  livinge 
and  dyeinge,  debarres  himself  of  salvation  for  oughte  that 
we  knowe.  And  I  beleve  that  I  am  bounde  to  separate 
myself  from  that  sinagogue  of  Rome  if  I  wilbe  saved. 
And  I  professe  myself e  a  member  of  the  true  Catholike 
Churche,  but  not  of  the  Roman  Churche  (as  nowe  it  is), 
and  to  looke  for  salvation,  not  by  that  faith  nor  doctrine 
which  that  Churche  nowe  teacheth,  but  that  which  once 
it  had,  but  now  falne  from  it.'  And  then  follow  '  groundes' 
in  burning  and  '  hard'  words,  intermingled  with  strange 
outbursts  of  personal  humiliation  before  God  and  an  awful 
sense  of  His  scrutiny. 

These  Title-pages  and  Will-extracts  must  suffice  to 
indicate  the  Ultra  -  Protestantism  of  the  elder  Crashaw.  \/ 
To  qualify  them — in  addition  to  our  note  of  the  intensi 
fied  after  title-pages  by  others— -it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  Armada  of  1588  flung  its  scaring  shadow  across 
his  young  days,  and  that  undoubtedly  the  descendants  of 
Loyola  falsified  their  venerable  Founder's  intentions  by 
political  agitations  and  plottings.  These  coloured  our 
ecclesiastical  polemique's  whole  ways  of  looking  at  things. 
His  Will  and  codicil  are  dated  in  1621-2,  and  during  these 
years  and  succeeding,  his  most  fiery  and  intense  '  Sermons' 
and  tractates  were  being  published.  Richard  was  then 
growing  up  into  his  teens,  and  without  his  '  second'  mo 
ther.  As  Crashaw  senior  died  in  1626— his  Will  having 
been  'proved'  16th  October  in  that  year — our  Poet-saint 


ESSAT  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

was  only  about  13-14  when  he  lost  his  father,  scarcely  ten 
when  appointed  by  him  executor,  the  words  being  :  k  I  or- 
daine  and  make  Mr.  Robert  Dixon  and  my  sonne  Richarde 
executors  of  my  Will'  (10th  June  1622).1 

His  Epistles-dedicatory  and  private  Letters  (several  of 
which  are  preserved  in  the  British  Museum,  and  of  which 
I  have  copies — one  very  long  to  Sir  Julius  Caesar  on  his 
brother's  illness)  and  his  Will,  make  it  plain  that  our 
Worthy  mingled  in  the  highest  society,  and  was  consulted 
in  the  most  delicate  affairs.  His  dedication  of  one  of  his 
most  pronounced  books,  '  Consilium  quorundam  Episcop. 
Bononiae  &c.'  (1613),  to  Shakespeare's  Earl  of  Southamp 
ton,  as  to  a  trusted  friend,  settles,  to  my  mind,  the  (disputed) 
fact  as  to  the  Earl  having  become  a  Protestant.  So  too 
the  translation  of  Augustine's  'City  of  God'  (1620,  2d 
edition)  is  dedicated  to  William  Earl  of  Pembroke,  the 
Earl  of  Arundel,  and  the  Earl  of  Montgomery. 

The  last  matter  to  be  touched  on  is  the  Verse  of  the 
paternal  Crashaw,  which  has  a  unique  character  of  its 
own.  It  consists  of  translations  from  the  Latin.  His 
'  Loyola's  Disloyalty'  is  based  on  a  rendering  of  a  Latin 
V  poem  in  super-exaltation  of  the  Virgin  Mary  by  Clarus 
Bonarscius  (= Caroms  Scribanius)  ;  and  Crashaw  animad 
verts  on  such  '  pointes'  as  these  :  '  That  the  milke  of  Mary 
may  come  into  comparison  with  the  blood  of  Christ ;' 
'  that  the  Christian  man's  faith  may  lawfully  take  hold 
of  both  as  well  as  one  ;'  '  that  the  best  compound  for  a 
sicke  soule  is  to  mix  together  her  milke  and  Christ's  blood;' 

i  Robert  Dixon,  gent.,  proved  the  Will  on  16th  October  1626,  and 
power  was  reserved  for  farther  proof  by  Richard  Crashaw,  who,  as 
under  age,  could  not  then  act.  Except  that  young  Richard  is  named 
executor,  there  is  no  special  provision  made  for  him  ;  and  we  must 
assume  that  as  only  son  and  child  he  necessarily  inherited  his  portion 
over  and  above  the  (considerable)  legacies.  It  was  no  uncommon 
thing  at  the  period  to  name  one  young  as  Master  Richard  an  exe 
cutor;  there  are  instances  even  of  an  unborn  child  being  nominated. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  XXX111 

'  that  Christ  is  still  a  little  child  in  His  mother's  armes, 
and  so  may  be  prayed  unto  ;'  '  that  a  man  shall  often 
times  be  sooner  heard  at  God's  hand  in  the  mediation  of 
Mary  than  Jesus  Christ ;'  and  so  on.  I  give  the  opening, 
middle,  and  closing  lines. 

TO  OUR  LADY  OF  HALL  AND  THE  CHILD  JESUS. 

'  My  thoughts  are  at  a  stand,  of  milke  and  blood, 

Delights  of  brest  and  side,  which  yeelds  most  good ; 
And  say,  when  on  the  teates  mine  eyes  I  cast, 

0  Lady,  of  thy  brest  I  beg  a  taste. 

Bat  if  mine  eyes  upon  the  wounds  doe  glide, 

Then,  Jesu,  I  had  rather  sucke  Thy  side. 
Long  have  I  mused,  now  knowe  I  where  to  rest ; 

For  with  my  right  hand  I  will  graspe  the  brest, 
If  so  I  may  presume  :  as  for  the  wounds, 

With  left  He  catch  them ;  thus  my  zeale  abounds.' 

Again  : 
'  Mother  and  Son,  give  eare  to  what  I  crave, 

1  beg  this  milke,  that  bloud,  and  both  would  have. 
Youngling,  that  in  Thy  mother's  armes  art  playing, 

Sucking  her  brest  sometimes,  and  sometimes  staying, 
Why  dost  Thou  view  me  with  that  looke  of  scorne  ? 

'Tis  forceless  envie  that  'gainst  Thee  is  borne. 
Oft  hast  Thou  said,  being  angry  at  my  shine, 

Darest  thou  desire  the  teates  My  food  lyes  in  ? 
I  will  not,  oh  I  dare  not,  golden  Child ; 

My  mind  from  f eare  is  not  so  farre  exild : 
But  one,  even  one  poore  drop  I  doe  implore 

From  Thy  right  hand  or  side,  I  ask  no  more. 
If  neither,  from  Thy  left  hand  let  one  fall ; 

Nay  from  Thy  foot,  rather  than  none  at  all : 
If  I  displease  Thee,  let  Thy  wounds  me  wound, 

But  pay  my  wage  if  I  in  grace  be  found.' 

Finally  : 
'  But  ah,  I  thirst ;  ah,  droght  my  breath  doth  smother, 

Quench  me  with  blood,  sweet  Son  ;  with  milk,  good  mother 
Say  to  Thy  mother,  See  My  brother's  thirst; 
Mother,  your  milke  will  ease  him  at  the  first. 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 


Say  to  thy  Son,  Behold  Thy  brother's  bands; 

Sweet  Son,  Thou  hast  his  ransome  in  Thy  hands. 
Shew  Thy  redeeming  power  to  soules  opprest, 

Thou  Sonne,  if  that  Thy  blood  excel  the  rest. 
And  shew  Thyself  e  justly  so  stilde  indeed, 

Thou  mother,  if  thy  brests  the  rest  exceed. 
Ah,  when  shall  I  with  these  be  satisfied  ? 

When  shall  I  swimme  in  joyes  of  brest  and  side? 
Pardon,  0  God,  mine  eager  earnestuesse, 

If  I  Thy  lawes  and  reason's  bounds  transgresse; 
Where  thirst  o're-swayes,  patience  is  thrust  away  : 

Stay  but  my  thirst,  and  then  my  cryes  will  stay. 
I  am  better  then  Thy  nailes  ;  yet  did  a  streame 

Of  Thy  deere  bloud  wash  both  the  lance  and  them. 
More  worthy  I  then  clouts  ;  yet  them  a  flood 

Moistened  of  mother's  milke  and  of  Son's  blood.' 

Rhythm,  epithet,  and  the  whole  ring  of  these  Verses 
remind  us  of  the  younger  Crashaw.  But  the  most  remark 
able  Verse-production  of  the  elder  Crashaw  is  his  trans 
lation  of  the  '  Querela,  sive  Dialogvs  Animae  et  Corporis 
damnati,'  ascribed  to  St.  Bernard.  It  originally  appeared 
in  161G,  and  has  been  repeatedly  reprinted  since.  Those 
of  1622  and  1632  are  now  before  me,  and  the  English  title- 
page  runs  :  '  The  Complaint,  or  Dialogve  betwixt  the 
Soule  and  the  Bodie  of  a  damned  man.  Each  laying  the 
fault  vpon  the  other.  Supposed  to  be  written  by  S.  Ber 
nard,  from  a  nightly  vision  of  his  ;  and  now  published  out 
of  an  ancient  manuscript  copie.  By  William  Crashaw.' 
The  Dialogue  thus  opens  : 

'In  silence  of  a  Winter's  night, 
A  sleeping  yet  a  walking  spirit  ; 
A  livelesse  body  to  my  sight 
Methought  appeared,  thus  addight. 

In  that  my  sleepe  I  did  descry 
A  Soule  departed  but  lately 

From  that  f  oule  body  which  lay  by  ; 

Wailing  with  sighes,  and  loud  did  cry. 


POETRY  OP  CRASH  AW. 

Fast  by  the  body,  thus  she  mones 

And  questions  it,  with  sigb.es  and  grones ; 

0  wretched  flesh,  thus  low  who  makes  thee  lye, 
Whom  yesterday  the  world  had  scene  so  high  ? 

Was't  not  but  yesterday  the  world  was  thine, 
And  all  the  countrey  stood  at  thy  devotion  ? 

Thy  traine  that  followed  thee  when  thy  sunne  did  shine 
"Have  now  forsaken  thee:  0  dolefull  alteration! 

Those  turrets  gay  of  costly  masonry, 

And  larger  palaces,  are  not  now  thy  roome  ; 

But  in  a  coffin  of  small  quantity 

Thou  lyest  interred  in  a  little  tombe. 

0  wretched  flesh,  with  me  that  art  forlorne, 

If  thou  couldst  know  how  sharpe  our  punishment ; 

How  justly  mightest  thou  wish  not  to  be  borne, 
Or  from  the  wombe  to  tombe  to  have  been  hent! 

How  lik'st  thou  now,  poor  foole,  thy  latter  lodging, 
The  roofe  whereof  lyes  even  with  thy  nose? 

Thy  eyes  are  shut,  thy  tongue  cannot  be  cogging ; 
Nothing  of  profit  rests  at  thy  dispose. 

Thy  garments,  wretched  fool,  are  f arre  from  rich ; 

Thy  upper  garment  hardly  worth  a  scute ; 
A  little  linnen  shrouds  thee  in  thy  ditch, 

No  rents  nor  gifts  men  bring,  nor  make  their  suite.' 

Again,  st.  79-81: 

'If  I  be  clad  in  rich  array, 
And  well  attended  every  day, 
Both  wise  and  good  I  shal  be  thoght, 
My  kinred  also  shall  be  sought. 
I  am,  say  men,  the  case  is  cleere, 
Your  cosen,  sir,  a  kinsman  neere. 
But  if  the  world  doe  change  and  f  rowne, 
Our  kinred  is  no  longer  knowne ; 
Nor  I  remembred  any  more 
By  them  that  honoured  me  before. 


XXIV1  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

0  vanity !  vile  love  of  mucke, 
Foule  poyson,  wherefore  hast  thou  stucke 
Thyselfe  so  deepe,  to  raise  so  high 
Things  vanishing  so  suddenly  ?' 

In  a  '  Manvall  for  true  Catholicks,  or  a  Handf vll,  or 
rather  a  Heartf  ull  of  holy  Meditations  and  Prayers,  ga 
thered  out  of  certaine  ancient  Manuscripts,  written  300 
yeeres  agoe,  or  more,'  which  is  usually  bound  up  with 
the  '  Querela,'  there  is  no  little  striking  thought  and  word- 
painting,  combined  with  a  parsimony  of  epithet,  and  a 
naked  and  yet  imaginative  echo  of  the  monkish  Latin, 
singularly  impressive.  Passing  the  '  Orthodoxall  Confes 
sions  of  God  the  Father'  and  '  Sonne'  and  '  Holy  Ghost,' 
though  all  have  many  memorable  things — I  would  close 
our  specimens  with  one  complete  poem  from  the  'Manvall.' 
It  is  entitled  '  The  Conclusion,  with  a  devout  and  holy 
prayer ;'  the  word  '  prayer'  reminding  us  that  in  his  Prayers 
herein  and  in  his  '  Milke  for  Babes'  (1618,  and  several 
later),  Crashaw  is  lowly  and  devout,  and  simply  a  sinner 
holding  the  Christian's  hope.  The  remark  applies  also  to 
much  of  his  celebration  of  '  Carraciolo,'  the  Italian  con 
vert  and  '  Second  Moses'  (1608). 

'  This  is  Christian  faith  unfained, 
Orthodoxall,  true,  unstained. 
As  I  teach,  all  understand, 
Yeelding  unto  neither  hand. 
And  in  this  my  soule's  defence, 
Reiect  me  not  for  mine  offence : 
Thogh  Death's  slave,  yet  desperation 
I  fly  in  death  to  seek  salvation. 
I  have  no  meane  Thy  love  to  gain, 
But  this  faith  which  I  maintains 
This  Thou  seest,  nor  will  I  cease 
By  this  to  beg  for  a  release. 
Let  this  sacred  salve  be  bound 
Vpon  my  sores,  to  make  them  sound. 
Though  man  be  carried  forth,  and  lying 
In  his  grave,  and  putrifying  : 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  XXXV11 

Bound  and  hid  from  mortall  eyes  ; 
Yet  if  Thou  bid,  he  must  arise. 
At  Thy  will  the  grave  will  open, 
At  Thy  will  his  bonds  are  broken. 
And  forth  he  conies  without  delay, 
If  Thou  but  once  bid,  Come  away ! 
In  this  sea  of  dread  and  doubt 
My  poore  barke  is  tost  about ; 
With  storms  and  pirats  far  and  wide, 
Death  and  woes  on  every  side. 
Come,  thou  Steer's-man  ever  blest, 
Calme  these  winds  that  me  molest ; 
Chase  these  ruthlesse  pyrats  hence, 
And  show  me  some  safe  residence. 
My  tree  is  f  ruitles,  dry,  and  dead, 
All  the  boughs  are  withered  ; 
Downe  it  must,  and  to  the  fire, 
If  desert  have  his  due  hire. 
But  spare  it,  Lord,  another  yeare, 
With  manuring  it  [yet]  may  beare. 
If  it  then  be  dead  and  dry, 
Burne  it ;  alas,  what  remedy  ! 
Mine  old  foe  assaults  me  sore 
With  fire  and  water,  more  and  more. 
Poore  I,  of  all  my  strength  bereft, 
Onely  unto  Thee  am  left. 
That  my  foe  may  hence  be  chased, 
And  I  from  Ruin's  clawes  released, 
Lord,  vouchsafe  me  every  day 
Strength  to  fast,  and  faith  to  pray : 
These  two  meanes  Thyself  hast  taught 
To  bring  temptation's  force  to  noght. 
Lord,  free  my  soule  from  sin's  infection 
By  repentance's  direction, 
Be  Thy  feare  in  me  abiding, 
My  soule  to  true  salvation  guiding. 
Grant  me  faith,  Lord,  hope,  and  love, 
Zeale  of  heaven  and  things  above. 
Teach  mee  prize  the  world  at  nought ; 
On  Thy  blisse  be  all  my  thought. 

VOL.  ii.  a  4 


XXXVili  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

All  my  hopes  on  Thee  I  found, 
In  Whom  all  pood  things  abound. 
Thou  art  all  my  dignitio : 
All  I  have  I  have  from  Thee. 
Thou  art  my  comfort  in«distresse, 
Thou  art  my  cure  in  heavinesse ; 
Thou  art  my  music  in  my  sadnes, 
Thou  art  my  medicine  in  my  madnesse. 
Thou  my  freedom  from  my  tliral, 
Thou  my  raiser  from  my  fall. 
In  my  labour  Thou  reliev'stme  ; 
Thou  reform'st  whatever  grieves  me. 
Al  my  wrongs  Thy  hand  revengeth, 
And  from  hurt  my  soul  defendeth. 
Thou  my  deepest  doubts  revealest, 
Thou  my  secret  faults  concealest. 
()  do  Thou  stay  my  feet  from  treading 
In  paths  to  hel  and  horror  leading, 
Where  eternal  torment  dwels, 
With  fears  and  tears  and  lothsome  smels  ; 
Where  man's  deepest  shame  is  sounded, 
And  the  guilty  still  confounded  ; 
Where  the  scourge  for  ever  beateth, 
And  the  worme  that  alwaies  eateth  ; 
Where  all  those  endless  do  remain, 
Lord,  preserve  us  from  this  paine. 
In  Siou  lodge  me,  Lord,  for  pitty — 
Sion,  David's  kingly  citty, 
Built  by  Him  that's  onely  good  ; 
Whose  gates  be  of  the  Crosse's  wood  ; 
Whose  keys  are  Christ's  undoubted  word ; 
4      Whose  dwellers  feare  none  but  the  Lord  ; 

Whose  wals  are  stone,  strong,  quicke  and  bright ; 

Whose  Keeper  is  the  Lord  of  Light : 

Here  the  light  doth  never  cease, 

Endlesse  Spring  and  endles  peace ; 

Here  is  musicke,  heaven  filling, 

Sweetnesse  evermore  distilling ; 

Here  is  neither  spot  nor  taint, 

No  defect,  nor  no  complaint; 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  XXXIX 

No  man  crooked,  great  nor  small, 

But  to  Chriat  conformed  all. 

Blessed  towne,  divinely  graced, 

On  a  rocke  so  strongly  placed, 

Thee  I  see,  and  thee  I  long  for  ; 

Thee  I  seek,  and  thee  I  grone  for. 

O  what  ioy  thy  dwellers  tast, 

All  in  pleasure  first  and  last ! 

What  full  enioying  blisse  divine, 

What  iewels  on  thy  wals  do  shine ! 

Ruby,  iacinth,  chalcedon, 

Knowne  to  them  within  alone. 

In  this  glorious  company, 

In  the  streets  of  Sion,  I 

With  lob,  Moses,  and  Eliah, 

Will  sing  the  heauenly  Alleviah.     Amen. 

Surely  this  is  a  very  noteworthy  transfusion  of  old  Latin 
pieties  into  vivid  English.  '  Visions'  of  Jerusalem  the 
Golden  transfigure  even  the  austere  words  towards  the 
close.  One  can  picture  Master  Richard's  eyes  kindling 
over  his  Father's  verses  when  he  was  gone. 

So  endeth  what  I  have  thought  it  needful  to  tell  of  the 
elder  Crashaw.  As  hitherto  almost  nothing  has  been  told 
of  him,  even  our  compressed  little  Memorial — keeping 
back  many  things  and  notices  that  have  gathered  in  our 
note-books — may  be  welcome  to  some.  I  pass  now  to 

II.  A  STUDY  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  POETRY  OF  RICHARD 
CRASHAW. 

The  outward  facts  of  our  '  sweet  Singer's'  story  are 
given  with  comparative  fulness  in  our  Memorial  -  Intro 
duction  (vol.  i.  pp.  xxvii.-xxxviii.).  In  the  present  brief 
Essay  we  wish  to  look  into  some  of  these,  so  as  to  arrive 
at  a  true  estimate  of  them  and  of  the  Poetry,  now  fully 
(and  for  the  first  time)  collected. 

I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  say  what  has  struck  myself 
as  worth  saying  about  Crashaw,  under  these  three  things  : 


xl  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

I.  His  change  from  Protestantism  to  Roman  Catho 
licism,  using  the  terms  as  historic  words,  not  polemically. 

n.  His  friends   and  associates,  as  celebrated   in   his 
Writings. 

in.  His  characteristics  and  place  as  a  Poet.     These 
successively. 

I.  His  change  from  Protestantism  to  Roman  Catholic 
ism.  From  our  Memoir  of  his  Father  it  will  be  apparent 
to  all  that  he  was  a  Protestant  of  Protestants  ;  and  it  is 
an  inevitable  assumption  that  his  son  from  infancy  would 
be  indoctrinated  with  all  vigilance  and  fervour  in  the  pa 
ternal  creed,  which  maybe  designated  Puritan,  as  opposed 
to  Laudian  High-Churchism  within  the  Church  of  Eng 
land.1  I  think  we  shall  not  err  either,  in  concluding  that 
the  younger  Crashaw  had  a  very  impressionable  and  plas- . 
tic  nature  ;  so  that  the  strong  and  self  -  assertive  cha 
racter  of  his  Father  could  not  fail  to  mould  his  earliest 
thinking,  opinions,  beliefs,  and  emotion.  Still  it  will  not 
do  to  pronounce  our  Poet's  change  to  have  been  a  revolt 
and  rebound  from  the  narrowness  of  the  paternal  teaching  , 
and  writing,  seeing  that  his  Father  died  in  1626,  when  he 
was  only  passing  into  his  1 3-14th  year.2  It  is  palpable  that 
the  elder  Crashaw  was  spared  the  distress  of  the  apostacy 
(as  he  should  most  trenchantly  have  named  it)  of  his  only 
son.  Moreover,  the  very  notable  poems  from  the  Tanner 
MSS.  on  the  Gunpowder  Treason  (vol.  i.  pp.  188-194)  are 

1  Yet4s  it  notable  that  the  elder  Crashaw  instituted  'a  daily 
Morning  Exercise'— reckoned  High-churchly  then  and  since.     The 
'  Honour  of  Vertue'  records  that  '  many  hundred  poore  soules'  had 
to  bless  God  for  the  '  Exercise.' 

2  Thomas  Baker's  note  in  W.  Crashaw's  '  Romish  Forgeries'  (as 
partly  quoted  before)  is  utterly  mistaken  and  misdirectedly  strong: 
'Erat  ille  [the  elder  Crashaw]   acerrimus  Propugnator  Religionis 
Reformats,  quam  Filius  ejus  Rio.  Crashaw,  injuriis  vexatus,  pressus 
inopia,  Patria  extorris,  et  complexu  Matris  Ecclesiae  avulsus,  ab- 
juravit.' 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  x 

pronounced  and  intense  in  their  denunciations  of  (to 
quote  from  them)  that  '  vnmated  malice,'  that  '  vnpeer'd 
despight'  and  '  very  quintessence  of  villanie,'  for  '  singing' 
of  which  he  feels  he  must  have  not '  inke'  but '  the  blood 
of  Cerberus,  or  Alecto's  viperous  brood,'  and  demonstrate 
that  he  carried  with  him  to,  and  kept  in,  Cambridge  all 
his  lather's  wrath,  and  more  than  even  his  father's  voca 
bulary  of  vituperation,  with  too  his  own  after-epithets, 
instinct  with  poetic  feeling,  as  a  thoughtful  reading  re 
veals.  These  poems  belong  to  1631-3.  Even  in  the  Latin 
Epigrams  of  1634  there  is  (to  say  the  least)  a  '  slight 
ing'  allusion  to  the  Pope  in  the  '  Umbra  S.  Petri,'  being 
'  Nunc  quoque,  Papa,  tuum  sustinet  ilia  decus'  (see  Epi 
gram  xix.  p.  47).  That  volume,  also,  is  dedicated  in  the 
most  glowing  words  of  affection  and  indebtedness  to 
Dr.  Benjamin  Lany  (vol.  ii.  pp.  7-15),  afterwards,  as  we 
shall  find  onward,  a  distinguished  bishop  in  the  Church 
of  England.  And  he  was  a  man  after  the  elder  Crashaw's 
own  heart,  as  we  shall  now  have  revealed  in  a  little  over 
looked  poem  addressed  to  Crashaw  senior,  which  is  ap- 
psnded  to  the  '  Manvall  for  True  Catholicks'  (as  before). 
Here  it  is ;  and  let  the  Reader  ponder  its  anti-papal  sen 
timent  : 

A  CONCLUSION  TO  THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS  BOOKE. 

Tradition  and  antiquitie,  the  ground 

Whereon  that  erring  Church  doth  so  relye, 
Breakes  out  to  light,  from  darknesse,  to  confound 

The  novel  doctrine  of  their  heresie, 
Which  plaine  by  these  most  sensible  degrees 

Doth  point  the  w'ayes  it  hath  digrest  to  fall ; 
Where  each  observing  iudgement  plainely  sees, 

From  good  to  bad,  from  bad  to  worst  of  all 
It  is  arriv'd :  so  that  it  can  aspire, 

Obscure,  deface,  suppresse,  doe  what  it  may, 
To  blinde  this  truth  ;  to  no  step  any  higher 

By  any  policie  it  can  essay. 


Xlii  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

These  holy  Hymnes  stuf  t  with  religious  zeale 

And  meditations  of  most  pious  use, 
Able  their  whole  to  wound,  our  wounded  heale : 

Free  from  impiety,  or  least  abuse, 
Blot  out  all  merit  in  ourselves  we  have, 

And  onely,  solely,  doe  on  Christ  relye  : 
Offer  not  prayers  for  those  are  in  the  grave, 

Nor  unto  saints,  that  heare  not,  doe  not  cry. 
Then  in  a  word,  since  God  hath  thee  preserved 

From  the  Inquisitors'  most  cruel  rage, 
Though  in  their  worth  they  else  might  have  deserv'd 

To  passe  among  the  good  things  of  this  Age, 
Yet  are  in  this  respect  of  more  regard, 

Since  God  would  have  them  to  these  times  appeare, 
So  many  having  perisht ;  and  be  heard 

With  more  true  zeale,  that  God  hath  kept  so  deare. 
By  all  which  I  conclude,  from  thine  owne  heart, 

Thou  wicked  servant,  that  might  know  and  would  not, 
He  hath  discharg'd  himselfe  in  all  and  part, 

That  would  have  cur'd  your  Babel,  but  hee  could  not. 

B.  L. 

There  is  some  obscurity  in  these  Donne-  or  Ben-Jonson- 
like  rugged  lines,  but  none  as  to  the  opinions  of  their 
writer  on  Popery.  Thus  up  to  1634  at  least,  or  until 
his  twenty -second  or  twenty -third  year,  Crashaw  the 
younger  was  as  thoroughly  Protestant,  in  all  probability, 
as  his  father  could  have  desired.  The  'change'  accord 
ingly  was  a  radical  one  when  he  left  his  mother-Church, 
and  one  laments  that  our  light  is  so  dim  and  our  view 
so  distartb.  Anthony  a-Wood  (as  before)  and  the  usual 
authorities  state  that  our  Crashaw  became  famous  as  a 
preacher  :  he  became,  says  Willmott,  '  a  preacher  of  great 
energy  and  power,'  id  est,  in  England,  and  therefore 
while  still  belonging  to  the  Church  of  England.  I  have 
an  impression  that  somehow  the  son  has  been  confounded 
with  the  father,  whose  renown  as  a  preacher  was  lasting  ; 
just  as  it  seems  certain  that  son  and  father  have  been 
confounded  by  the  continuous  editors  of  Selden's  '  Table- 


POETRY  OF  CRASH AW, 

Talk,'  wherein  the  illustrious  Thinker  recounts  somewhat 
proudly  that  he  had  converted  Crashaw  from  his  oppo 
sition  to  stage-plays.  We  may  as  well  expiscate  this  point 
here.  The  younger  Crashaw,  then,  never  expressed  him 
self,  so  far  as  is  known,  against  stage-plays :  contrari 
wise,  in  his  fine  Epigram  on  Ford's  '  Love's  Sacrifice'  and 
'  Broken  Heart'  he  is  in  sympathy  with  these  '  stage- 
plays.'  On  the  other  hand,  in  one  of  his  most  impas 
sioned  sermons,  his  father  had,  with  characteristic  pun 
gency,  condemned  '  Plaies  and  Players' — as  given  below.1 

1  The  passage  occurs  in  his  Sermon  before  '  Lord  Lawarre'  on 
setting  out  for  Virginia  (see  its  title-page  ante).  After  disposing 
of  (1)  the  divels,  (2)  the  Papists,  he  comes,  as  follows,  to  (3)  the 
Plaiers.  'As  for  the  Plaiers :  (pardon  me,  right  honourable  and 
beloued,  for  wronging  this  place  and  your  patience  with  so  base  a 
subject),  they  play  with  Princes  and  Potentates,  Magistrates  and 
Ministers,  nay  with  God  and  Religion  and  all  holy  things :  nothing 
that  is  good,  excellent,  or  holy  can  escape  them :  how  then  can  this 
action?  But  this  may  suffice,  that  they  are  Players :  they  abuse 
Virginia,  but  they  are  Players :  they  disgrace  it ;  true,  but  they  are 
but  Players,  and  they  haue  played  with  better  things,  and  such  as 
for  which,  if  they  speedily  repent  not,  I  dare  say,  vengeance  waites 
for  them.  But  let  them  play  on ;  they  make  men  laugh  on  earth, 
but  "  Hee  that  sits,  in  heaven  laughes  them  to  scorne  ;"  because  like 
the  flie,  they  so  long  play  with  "the  candle,  till  first  it  singe  their 
wings,  and  at  last  burnes  them  altogether.  But  why  are  the  Players 
enemies  to  this  Plantation  and  doe  abuse  it?  I  will  tell  you  the 
causes.  First,  for  that  they  are  so  multiplied  here,  that  one  cannot 
liue  by  another,  and  they  see  that  wee  send  of  all  trades  to  Virginia, 
but  wee  send  no  Players?  which  if  wee  would  doe,  they  that  remaine 
would  gaine  the  more  at  home.  Secondly,  as  the  diuell  hates  vs 
because  wee  purpose  not  to  suffer  Heathens,  and  the  Pope  because 
wee  have  vowed  to  tolerate  no  Papists,  so  doe  the  Players,  because 
wee  resolue  to  suffer  no  idle  persons  in  Virginia ;  which  course,  if  it 
were  taken  in  England,  they  know  they  might  turne  to  new  occupa 
tions'  [sheet  H3,  unpaged].  The  'Talk'  in  Selden's  'Table-Talk' 
is  as  follows :  '  I  never  converted  but  two  ;  the  one  was  Mr.  Crashaw, 
from  writing  against  Plays,  by  telling  him  a  way  how  to  understand 
that  place  [of  putting  on  women's  apparel],  which  has  nothing  to  do 


Xliv  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

To  return :  be  this  as  it  may  in  the  matter  of  '  preach 
ing,'  the  matter-of-fact  is,  that  our  Crashaw  retained  his 
Fellowship  up  to  his  ejection  on  the  llth  of  June  1644 
(vol.  i.  pp.  xxxiii.-iv.),  or  when  he  was  in  -his  32d-33d 
year  ;  or,  as  gentle  Father  Southwell  gently  put  it,  about 
his  'dear  Lord's'  age.  We  get  a  glimpse  of  his  religi 
ous  life  while  a  Protestant,  in  the  original  'Preface  to 
the  Reader'  of  '  Steps  to  the  Temple,'  &c.  as  follows  : 
'  Reader,  we  stile  his  Sacred  Poems,  Steps  to  the  Temple, 
and  aptly  ;  for  in  the  Temple  of  God,  under  His  wing,  he 
led  his  life,  in  St.  Marie's  Church  neere  St.  Peter's  Col- 
ledge  :  there  he  lodged  under  Tertullian's  roof  e  of  angels ; 
there  he  made  his  nest  more  gladly  than  David's  swallow 
neere  the  house  of  God,  where,  like  a  primitive  saint,  he 
offered  more  prayers  in  the  night  than  others  usually 
offer  in  the  day  ;  there  he  penned  these  poems,  STEPS  for 
happy  soules  to  climbe  heaven  by'  (vol.  i.  p.  xlvii.).  Coin 
ciding  with  this  is  the  love  he  had  for  the  writings  of 
'  Sainte  Teresa,'  when  (in  his  own  words)  '  the  Author' 


in  the  business  [as  neither  has  it]— that  the  Fathers  speak  against 
Plays  in  their  time  with  reason  enough,  for  they  had  real  idolatries 
mixed  with  their  Plays,  having  three  altars  perpetually  upon  the 
stage'  (<  Poetry,'  §  3).  In  confirmation  farther  of  our  correction  of 
a  long-continued  error,  I  find  the  elder  Crashaw  in  another  of  his  ser 
mons  touching  incidentally  on  the  very  point  of  'women's  apparel,' 
as  follows :  '  The  ungodly  playes  and  enterludes  so  rife  in  this  na 
tion  :  whaf  are  they  but  a  bastard  of  Babylon,  a  daughter  of  error 
and  confusion,  a  hellish  device  (the  divel's  own  recreation  to  mock 
at  holy  things),  by  him  delivered  to  the  heathen,  from  them  to  the 
Papists,  and  from  them  to  us?  ....  They  know  all  this,  and  that 
God  accounts  it  abomination  jor  a  man  to  put  on  woman's  apparel, 
and  that  the  ancient  Fathers  expounded  that  place  against  them' 

(Sermon  preached  at  the  Crosse,  Feb.  14,  1607 justified  by  the 

Author 1609,  4to,  p.  169).     Probably  the  preacher  intimated 

his  intention  to  pursue  his  condemnation  farther,  and  so  the  great 
Scholar  put  him  right  on  the  well-known  text. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  xv 

of  '  A  Hymn  to  the  Name  and  Honor  of  the  admirable 
Sainte  Teresa'  was  '  yet  among  the  Protestants.'  In  his 
'Apologie  for  the  foregoing  Hymn'  —  than  which,  for 
subtle,  delicate,  finest  mysticism,  in  words  that  are  not 
so  much  words  as  music,  and  yet  definite  words  too, 
changing  with  the  quick  bright  changes  of  a  dove's  neck, 
there  is  hardly  anything  truer  —  the  Poet  traces  up  his 
devotion  to  her  to  his  '  reading'  of  her  books  ;  as  thus  : 

'  Thus  haue  I  back  again  to  thy  bright  name, 
Fair  floud  of  holy  fires !  transf  us'd  the  flame 

I  took  from  reading  thee 

O  pardon,  if  I  dare  to  say 

Thine  own  dear  bookes  are  guilty.'         (vol.  i.  p.  150.) 

The  words  of  the  Preface  (as  above)  remind  us  also  that 
Crashaw  took  his  part  in  the  Fasts  and  Vigils  and  aus 
terities  of  the  Ferrars  and  the  saintly,  if  ascetic,  '  Little 
Gidding'  group.1  Going  back  on  the  '  Hymn,'  such  lines  as 
these  show  how  even  then  the  Poet  had  drunk-in  the  very 
passion  of  Teresas  e.  g. 

1  Loue  toucht  her  heart,  and,  lo,  it  beates 
High,  and  burnes  with  such  braue  heates, 
Such  thirsts  to  dy,  as  dares  drink  vp 
A  thousand  cold  deathes  in  one  cup. 
Good  reason  :  for  she  breathes  all  fire ; 
Her  white  breast  heaues  with  strong  desire. 


Sweet,  not  so  fast !  lo,  thy  fair  Spouse, 
Whom  thou  seekst  with  so  swift  vowes, 
Calls  thee  back,  and  bidds  thee  come 
T'embrace  a  milder  martyrdom. 

Blest  powres  forbid  thy  tender  life 
Should  bleed  vpon  a  barbarous  knife : 


1  See  Professor  Mayor's  '  Nicholas  Ferrar'  (1855),  pp.  vi.  vii.  330. 
He  has  satisfied  us  that  Crashaw  was  not  the  author  of  the  Epitaph 
on  Nicholas  Ferrar,  as  Sancrof  t  supposed.  See  p.  144. 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

Or  some  base  hand  have  power  to  raze 

Thy  brest's  chast  cabinet,  and  vncase 

A  soul  kept  there  so  sweet :  0  no, 

Wise  Heaun  will  neuer  haue  it  so. 

Thou  art  Love's  victime,  and  must  dy 

A  death  more  mystical  and  high  : 

Into  Loue's  armes  thou  shalt  let  fall 

A  still-suruiuing  funerall. 

His  is  the  dart  must  make  the  death 

Whose  stroke  shall  tast  thy  hallow'd  breath  ; 

A  dart  thrice  dipt  in  that  rich  flame 

Which  writes  thy  Spouse's  radiant  name 

Vpon  the  roof  of  Heau'n,  where  ay 

It  shines  ;  and  with  a  soueraign  ray 

Beates  bright  vpon  the  burning  faces 

Of  soules  which  in  that  Name's  sweet  graces 

Find  everlasting  smiles.      . 

O  how  oft  shalt  thou  complain 

Of  a  sweet  and  subtle  pain ; 

Of  intolerable  ioyes  ; 

Of  a  death,  in  which  who  dyes 

Loues  his  death,  and  dyes  again, 

And  would  for  ever  so  be  slain, 

And  liues  and  dyes ;  and  knowcs  not  why 

To  live,  but  that  he  thus  may  neuer  leaue  to  dy.' 

It  is  deeply  significant  to  find  such  a  Hymn  as 
that  written  while  '  yet  among  the  Protestants.'  Putting 
the  two  things  together — (a)  his  recluse,  shy,  meditative 
life  '  under  Tertullian's  roofe  of  angels,'  and  his  prayers 
THERE^U  the  night;  (6)  his  passionately  sympathetic  read 
ing,  as  of  Teresa,  and  going  forth  of  his  most  spiritual 
yearnings  after  the  '  sweet  and  subtle  pain,'  and  Love's 
death  '  mystical  and  high' — we  get  at  the  secret  of  the 
'  change'  now  being  considered.  However  led  to  it,  Cra- 
shaw's  reading  lay  among  books  that  were  as  fuel  to  fire 
brought  to  a  naturally  mystical  and  supersensitive  tern- ' 
perament ;  and  however  formed  and  nurtured,  such  self- 
evidently  was  his  temperament.  His  innate  mysticism 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

drew  him  to  such  literature,  and  the  literature  fed  what 
perchance  demanded  rather  to  be  neutralised.1  I  feel 
satisfied  one  main  element  of  the  attraction  of  Roman  Is 
Catholicism  for  him  was  the  m.  triment  and  nurture  for 
his  profoundest  though  most  perilous  spiritual  experiences 
in  its  Writers.  His  great-brained,  strong-thewed  father 
would  have  dismissed  such  '  intolerable  ioyes'  as  morbid 
sentimentalism  ;  but  the  nervous,  finely  and  highly- strung  ' 
organisation  of  his  son  was  as  an  -ZEolian  harp  under  their 
touch.  To  all  this  must  be  added  certain  local  influences, 
and  ultimately  the  crash  of  the  Ejection.  The  history 
of  the  University  during  the  period  of  Crashaw's  resid 
ence  makes  it  plain  that  there  was  then,  as  later,  a  revi 
val  of  what  may  be  technically  called  Ritualism — as  an  in 
tended  help -meet  to  Faith — and  that  by  some  of  the  most 
cultured  and  gracious  scholars  of  the  Colleges.  I  am  not 
vindicating,  much  less  judging  such,  any  more  than  would 
I '  sit  in  judgment'  on  the  Ritualist  revival  of  our  own 
day,  i.  e.  of  its  adherents.  For  myself,  I  find  it  a  diviner 
and  grander  thing  to  '  walk  by  faith'  rather  than  by  '  sight,' 
and  not  '  bodied'  but  '  disembodied  truth'  the  more  spi 
ritual.  But  to  not  a  few — and  to  such  as  Crashaw — the 
sensible,  the  visible,  the  actually  looked -at  —  sanctified 
with  the  hoar  of  centuries — light  up  and  etherealise.  Con 
temporary  records  show  that  the  chapel  of  Peterhouse 
— Crashaw's  college — which  was  built  in  1632,  and  conse 
crated  by  Francis  White,  Bishop  of  Ely,  was  a  '  handsome' 
one,  having  a  beautiful  ceiling  and  a  noble  east  window 
— its  glass  '  hid  away  in  the  troublesome  times.'  Among 
the  benefactors  to  its  building  were  (afterwards  bishops) 
Cosin  and  Wren,  and  also  Shelf ord,  whose  '  Five  learned 

1  His  reading  included  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  Italian,  Spanish. 
His  '  exercises'  were  '  Poetry,  Drawing,  Limming,  Graving'  ('  exer 
cises  of  his  curious  invention  and  sudden  fancy').  See  our  vol.  i. 
p.  xlvii. 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

Discourses'  were  graced  with  a  noticeable  '  commenda 
tory  poem'  by  Crashaw  (vol.  ii.  pp.  162-5).  Before  this 
chapel  was  built  the  society  made  use  of  the  chancel  of 
the  adjacent  church  of  Little  St.  Mary's,  into  which  there 
was  a  door  from  Peterhouse  College.  The  reader  may  at 
this  point  turn  to  our  poet's  heart-broken  'pleadings' 
for  the  '  restoration'  of  his  College,  now  made  '  to  speak 
English.'  On  all  which,  and  the  like,  dear  old  Fuller, 
in  his  History  of  the  University,  thus  speaks,  under  a 
somewhat  later  date  (1642),  but  the  very  turning-period 
with  Crashaw :  '  Now  began  the  University  to  be  much 
beautified  in  buildings  ;  every  college,  after  casting  its 
skin  with  the  snake,  or  renewing  its  bill  with  the  eagle, 
having  their  courts,  or  at  least  their  fronts  and  gatehouse, 
repaired  and  adorned.  But  the  greatest  attention  was  in 
their  chapels,  most  of  them  being  graced  with  the  acces 
sion  of  organs,'  &c. 

Contemporary  records  farther  lead  us  to  Peterhouse 
and  Pembroke  Colleges  as  specially  '  visited'  and  '  spoiled' 
in  the  Commission  from  the  Parliament  in  1643  to  remove 
crosses.  We  may  read  one  '  report'  out  of  many.  '  Mr. » 
Horscot :  We  went  to  Peterhouse,  1643,  Dec.  21,  with  offi 
cers  and  soldiers,  and  [in]  the  presence  [of]  Mr.  Wilson, 
of  the  president  Mr.  Francis,  Mr.  Maxy  and  other  Fellows, 
Dec.  20  and  23,  we  pulled  down  two  mighty  great  angells 
with  wings,  and  divers  other  angells  and  the  four  Evan- 
gelists4and  Peter  with  his  keies,  over  the  Chappell  Dore, 
and  about  a  hundred  cherubims  and  angells  and  divers 
superstitious  letters  in  gold  ;  and  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
chancel  these  words  were  written  as  f  olloweth :  "  Hie  locus 
est  Domini  Dei,  nil  aliud  et  Porta  coeli."  Witness,  Will. 
Dowsing,  Geo.  Long.'  Farther :  '  These  words  were 
written  at  Keie's  Coll.  and  not  at  Peterhouse,  but  about 
the  walls  were  written  in  Latin,  "  We  prays  thee  ever ;" 
and  on  some  of  the  images  was  written  "  Sanctus,  Sanctus, 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  xlix 

Sanctus  ;"  or  other,  "  Gloria  Dei  et  Gloria  Patri,"  and 
"  Non  nobis  Domine ;"  and  six  angells  in  the  windowes.' 
So  at  Pembroke,  '  We  brake  and  pulled  down  80  super 
stitious  pictures  ;'  and  so  at  Little  St.  Mary's,  '  "We  brake 
down  60  superstitious  pictures,  some  Popes  and  crucifixes 
and  God  the  Father  sitting  in  a  chayer  and  holding  a 
glass  in  his  hand.'  Looking  on  the  since  famous  names 
of  Peterhouse  and  Pembroke  (Spenser's  college) — Cosin, 
Wren,  Shelford,  Tournaye,  Ancfrewes-— they  at  once  sug 
gest  ritualistic,  if  not  Roman  Catholic,  proclivities. 

Thus  from  all  sides  came  potent  influences  of  personal 
friendship — of  his  friends  and  associates  more  onward — 
to  give  impulse  arid  momentum  to  Crashaw's  mystical  Ro 
man-Catholic  sympathies.  The  '  Ejection'  of  1644  found 
Crashaw  in  the  very  heart  of  these  influences,  not  swayed 
simply,  but  mastered  by  them.  To  one  so  secluded  and 
unworldly,  a  crisis  in  which  the  pillars  of  the 'throne  were 
shattered,  and  in  which  not  the  many  for  the  one,  but 
the  one  rather  than  the  many,  must  be  sacrificed,  was 
a  dazing  bewilderment,  and  terror,  and  agony.  All  was 
chaos  and  weltering  confusion  ;  no  resting-place  in  Eng 
land  for  his  dove -feet :  dissonance,  blasphemy  as  he  weened, 
came  to  his  shuddering  heart :  he  saw  the  lif  ting-up  of  an 
chors  never  before  lifted,  and  the  Church  drifting,  drifting 
away  aimlessly  and  helplessly  (as  he  misjudged).  Moses- 
like,  he  looked  this  way  and  that  way,  and  saw  no  man — 
saw  not  The  Man — and  failed,  I  fear,  to  look  UP,  because 
of  his  very  agony  of  looking  down  and  in.  And  so,  in 
his  tremor  and  sorrow  and  weariness,  he  passed  over  to 
Roman  Catholicism  as  the '  ideal'  of  his  reading,  and  as  the 
'  home'  of  the  sainted  ones  whose  words  were  as  manna  to 
his  spirit.  Not  a  strong,  defiant,  masterful  soul,  by  any 
means— frail,  timorous,  shrinking,  rather — he  would  '  fly 
away,'  even  if  out  to  the  wilderness,  to  be  '  at  rest.'  The 
very  '  inner  life'  of  God  was  in  his  soft  gentle  heart,  and 


1  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

that  he  carried  with  him  through  after-years,  as  Cowley 
bore  brave  witness  by  his  magnanimous  title  of  '  Saint.' 
Conscience  too — ill-instructed  possibly,  yet  true  to  its  light, 
if  true  also  to  feelings  that  ought  to  have  been  wrestled 
with,  not  succumbed  to — went  with  him  :  and  what  of 
God's  grace  is  in  a  man  keeps  him,  wherever  ecclesiasti 
cally  he  may  abide. 

Such  is  our  solution  of  the  '  change'  of  Crashaw  from 
Protestantism  to  Catholicism.  It  is  sheer  fanaticism  to 
rave  against  the  'change,'  and  to  burrow  for  ignoble 
motives.  Gross  ignorance  of  the  facts  of  the  period  is 
betrayed  by  any  one  who  harshly  '  judges'  that  the 
humble  'ejected  Fellow'  made  a  worldly  'gain'  by  his 
'change.'  Nay  verily,  it  was  no  'gain,'  in  that  paltry 
sense,  for  an  Englishman  then  to  become  a  Eoman  Ca 
tholic.  It  was  to  invite  obloquy,  misconstruction,  '  evil- 
speaking.'  In  Crashaw's  case  he  had  wealthy  uncles  and 
aunts,  and  other  relatives,  who  should  have  amply  pro 
vided  for  him,  and  '  sheltered'  him  through  the  '  troublous 
times.'  Prynne's  '  Legenda  Lignea,  with  an  Answer  to 
Mr.  Birchley's  Moderator  (pleading  for  a  Toleration  of 
Popery)  and  a  Character  of  some  hopeful  saints  revolted 
to  the  Church  of  Rome'  (1653),  is  brutal  as  it  is  inaccu 
rate  ;  but  it  must  be  adduced  as  an  example  of  what  '  Re- 
volters'  (so  called)  had  to  endure,  albeit  Crashaw  was  gone 
into  the  silences  whither  no  clamour  reaches,  when  the 
bitter  J>ook  came  forth.  '  Master  Richard  Crashaw  (son 
to  the  London  divine,  and  sometime  Fellow  of  St.  Peter- 
house  in  Cambridge)  is  another  slip  of  the  times  that  is 
transplanted  to  Rome.  This  peavish  sillie  seeker  glided 
away  from  his  principles  in  a  poetical  vein  of  fancy  and 
impertinent  curiosity,  and  finding  that  verses  and  mea 
sured  flattery  took  and  much  pleased  some  female  wits, 
Crashaw  crept  by  degrees  into  favour  and  acquaintance 
with  some  court  ladies,  and  with  the  gross  commendations 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  11 

of  their  parts  and  beauties  (burnished  and  varnished  with 
some  other  agreeable  adulations)  he  got  first  the  estima 
tion  of  an  innocent,  harmless  convert ;  and  a  purse  being 
made  by  some  deluded,  vain-glorious  ladies  and  their 
friends,  the  poet  was  despatched  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Rome, 
where,  if  he  had  found  in  the  see  Pope  Urban  the  Eighth 
instead  of  Pope  Innocent,  he  might  possibly  have  received 
a  greater  quantity  and  a  better  number  of  benedictions  ; 
for  Urban  was  as  much  a  pretender  to  be  prince  and 
oecumenical  patron  of  poets  as  head  of  the  Church ;  but 
Innocent  being  more  harsh  and  dry,  the  poor  small  poet 
Crashaw  met  with  none  of  the  generation  and  kindred  of 
Mecasnas,  nor  any  great  blessing  from  his  Holiness;  which 
misfortune  puts  the  pitiful  wier-drawer  to  a  humour  of 
admiring  his  own  raptures  ;  and  in  this  fancy  (like  Nar 
cissus)  he  is  fallen  in  love  with  his  own  shadow,  convers 
ing  with  himself  in  verse,  and  admiring  the  birth  of  his 
own  brains  ;  he  is  only  laughed  at,  or  at  most  but  pitied, 
by  his  few  patrons,  who,  conceiving  him  unworthy  of  any 
preferment  in  their  Church,  have  given  him  leave  to  live 
(like  a  lean  swine  almost  ready  to  starve)  in  a  poor  men 
dicant  quality ;  and  that  favour  is  granted  only  because 
Crashaw  can  rail  as  satirically  and  bitterly  at  true  religion 
in  verse  as  others  of  his  grain  and  complexion  can  in  prose 
and  loose  discourses :  this  fickle  shuttlecock,  so  tost  with 
every  changeable  puff  and  blast,  is  rather  to  be  laughed 
at  and  scorned  for  his  ridiculous  levity  than  imitated  in 
his  sinful  and  notorious  apostacy  and  revolt'  (cxxxviii.). 

The  short  and  crushing  answer  to  all  this  Billingsgate 
is  :  The  poems  of  Crashaw  are  now  fully  before  the  reader, 
and  he  will  not  find,  from  the  first  page  to  the  last, 
one  line  answering  to  Prynne's  jaundiced  representations : 
'  flatteries,'  '  adulations,'  '  railings,'  you  look  for  in  vain. 
The  wistfulness  of  persuasion  of  the  Verse-Letter  to  the 
Countess  of  Denbigh  would  have  been  trampled  on  as  a 


Hi  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

blind  man  or  a  boor  tramples  on  a  bed  of  pansies,  by  the 
grim  lawyer-Puritan.  Then,  the  very  lowliness  and  (al 
leged)  mendicancy  of  his  post  in  the  Church  of  Rome 
might  have  suggested'  a  grain  of  charity,  seeing  that 
worldly  advancement  could  not  be  motive  to  an  ail-but 
friendless  scholar.  As  to  the  '  birth  of  his  own  brains,' 
and  '  conversing  with  himself  in  verse,'  would  that  we  had 
more  such  '  births'  and  '  conversings' !  Other  accusations 
are  malignant  gossip,  where  they  are  not  nonsense.  Far 
different  is  the  spirit  of  Dr.  John  Bargrave ;  whose  MS.  has 
at  last  been  worthily  edited  and  published  for  the  Camden 
Society.1  His  notice  of  Crashaw  at  Rome  is  as  follows  : 
'  When  I  went  first  of  my  four  times  to  Rome,  there  were 
there  four  revolters  to  the  Roman  Church  that  had  been 
Fellows  of  Peterhouse  in  Cambridge  with  myself.  The 
name  of  one  of  them  was  Mr.  R.  Crashaw,  who  was  one 
of  the  Seyuita  (as  their  term  is)  :  that  is,  an  attendant  or' 
of  the  followers  of  this  Cardinal,  for  which  he  had  a 
salary  of  crowns  by  the  month  (as  the  custom  is),  but  no 
diet.  Mr.  Crashaw  infinitely  commended  his  Cardinal,  but 
complained  extremely  of  the  wickedness  of  those  of  his 
retinue  ;  of  which  he,  having  the  Cardinal's  ear,  com 
plained  to  him.  Upon  which  the  Italians  fell  so  far  out 
with  him  that  the  Cardinal,  to  secure  his  life,  was  fain 
to  put  him  from  his  service,  and  procuring  him  some  small 
employ  at  the  Lady's  of  Loretto ;  whither  he  went 
on  pilgrimage  in  summer  time,  and,  overheating  himself, 
died  in  four  weeks  after  he  came  thither,  and  it  was 
doubtful  whether  he  was  not  poisoned'  (p.  37).  That  brings 
before  us  a  true,  white-souled  Man  '  of  God,'  resolute  to 

1  '  Pope  Alexander  the  Seventh  and  the  College  of  Cardinals.' 
By  John  Bargrave,  D.D.,  Canon  of  Canterbury  [1662-1680].  With 
a  Catalogue  of  Dr.  Bargrave 's  Museum.  Edited  by  J.  C.  Robertson, 
M.A.,  Canon  of  Canterbury.  Camden  Society,  1867,  4to.  Todd,  in 
his  Milton  (i.  250-1),  first  quoted  the  above  from  the  MS. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  1111 

'  speak  out,'  whoever  sinned  in  his  sight ;  and  it  is  blind 
sectarianism  to  deny  that,  from  the  noble  and  holy  Loyola 
to  our  own  Faber  and  Spencer  and  the  living  Newman, 
the  Church  of  Rome  has  never  been  without  dauntless 
preachers  of  the  very  righteousness  of  God,  or  unhesitant 
rebukers  of  the  wickedness,  immoralities,  and  frivolities  of 
their  co-religionists.  The  suspicion  of  'poyson'  I  am 
unwilling  to  accept.  Onward  I  shall  give  our  recovered 
record  of  his  death.  Summarily,  then,  the  '  change' 
of  Crashaw  from  Protestantism  to  Roman  Catholicism 
had  its  root  and  carries  its  solution  in  his  '  mystical'  t 
dreamy  temperament  and  yearnings,  as  these  were  over- 
encouraged  instead  of  controlled  ;  and  as  formative  influ 
ences  there  were — (a)  his  reading  in  Teresa  and  kindred 
literature,  until  not  '  hands,'  but  brain  and  heart,  imagi 
nation  and  fancy,  grew  into  the  elements  wherein  they 
wrought — as  one  finds  sprays  of  once-green  moss  and 
delicate- carven  ferns  changed  by  the  dripping  limestone 
into  limestone  :  (&)  the  ritualistic  revival  being  in  the 
hands  of  those  most  loved  and  trusted,  and  from  whom 
he  fetched  whatever  of  spiritual  life  and  peace  and  joy 
and  hope  was  in  him — these  too  being  of  stronger  will, 
and  decisive  in  opinion  and  action — his  vague  'feeling- 
after'  rest  was  centred  in  the  Rest  of  ideal  Roman  Catho 
licism  :  (c)  the  confusions  and  strifes  of  the  transition- 
period  of  the  Commonwealth  terrified  and  wounded  him  ; 
he  mistook  the  crash  of  falling  scaffolding,  whose  end 
was  served,  for  the  falling  of  the  everlasting  skies ;  saw  not 
their  serene  shining  beyond  the  passing  clouds,  lightning- 
charged  for  divine  clarifying ;  and  a  '  quiet  retreat,'  which 
Imagination  beckoned  him  to,  won  him  to  '  hide'  there 
his  weeping  and  dismay.  Nothing  sordid  or  expedient,  or 
facing-both-ways,  or  unworthy,  moved  him  to  '  change.' 
Every  one  who  has  self-respect  based  on  self-knowledge, 
and  who  thus  has  experienced  the  mystery  of  his  deepest 
VOL.  ii.  a  5 


Hv  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

beliefs,  will  make  all  gentlest  allowances,  hold  all  tenderest 
sympathies  with  him,  and  feel  the  coarse  abuse  of  Prynne 
and  later  as  a  personal  wrong.  Richard  Crashaw  was 
a  true  '  man  of  God/  and  acted,  I  believe,  in  sensitive 
allegiance  to  his  conscience  as  it  spake  to  him.  '  Change,' 
even  fundamental  change,  in  such  a  man  is  to  be  accepted 
without  reserve  as  '  honest'  and  righteous  and  God-fear 
ing.  He  dared  not  sign  the  '  Solemn  League  and  Cove 
nant/  however  '  solemn'  it  might  be  to  others  ;  and  so  he 
went  out.1  I  pass  to — 

II.  His  friends  and  associates,  as  celebrated  in  his  writ 
ings.  I  use  the  word  '  Writings'  here  rather  than  '  Poems/ 
because  in  his  Epistles,  e.  g.  to  the  '  Epigrammata'  and 
those  printed  by  us  for  the  first  time,  as  well  as  in  his 
Poetry,  names  are  found  over  which  one  pauses  instinct 
ively.  Commencing  with  his  school-days  at  the  Charter 
house,  there  is  RobertjkQQke,  'Master'  ('Preceptor')  from 
1G28  to  1G43.2  Very  little  has  come  down  to  us  concern  - 

1  Crashaw's  name  is  duly  entered  in  the  list  of  Converts  of  the 
1648-9  edition  of  Dr.  Carier's  'Missive  to  his  Majesty  of  Great  Bri 
tain  ....  containing  the  Motives  of  his  Conversion  to  Catholike 
Religion'  — thus:  'Mr.  Richard  Crashaw,  Master  of  Arts  of  Peter- 
house,  Cambridge,  now  Secretary  to  a  Cardinall  in  Rome,  well  known 
in  England  for  his  excellent  and  ingenious  Poems.'    The  Countess 
of  Denbigh  is  also  in  the  list. 

2  In  its  place  (vol.  i.  p.  234)  an  Epitaph  is  headed  '  Vpon  Doctor 
Brooke.'    This  may  possibly  have  been  Brook  of  the  Charterhouse  ; 
but  I  hatf  thought  it  the  brother  of  Christopher  Brook  (or  Brooke)— 
Dr.  Samuel  Brooke,  the  associate  of  Dr.  Donne,  and  author  of  a 
dainty  little  poem  on  'Tears.'    I  am  not  aware  that  the  Master  of 
the  Charterhouse  was  '  Doctor.'     But  his  name  is  spelled  Brooks  in 

Domus  Carthusiana,'  p.  139.  With  reference  to  'Priscianus' 
and  'Stomachus'  and  'Hymn  to  Venus,'  &c.,  two  things  are  no 
ticeable  :  (1)  that  earlier  Crashaw  was  of  the  '  earth  earthy/  as 
much  as  any  of  his  contemporary  poets ;— his  '  Royal'  and  other 
early  poetry  (as  above)  is  heathenish  almost— in  strange  and  sug 
gestive  contrast  with  his  later,  when  every  atom  of  him  was  reli- 


POETRY  OF  CRA.SHAW.  Iv 

ing  him,  and  the  present  head  of  the  renowned  School  has 
been  unable  to  add  to  Alexander  Chalmers'  testimony, 
'  A  very  celebrated  Master.'  All  the  more  have  I  pleasure 
in  inviting  attention  to  the  new  '  Epistola'  and  related 
poems  addressed  to  him,  and  which  must  be  studied  along 
with  the  previous  poem,  '  Ornatissimo  viro  praeceptori  suo 
colendissimo,  Magistro  Brook'  (vol.  ii.  pp.  319)  ;  and  per 
haps  the  humorous  and  genial  serio-comic  celebration  of 
'  Priscianus'  grew  from  some  school-incident  (vol.  ii.  pp. 
308,  315)  having  in  the  latter  year,  like  Crashaw,  been 
'  ejected'  from  the  Charterhouse  for  not  taking  the *  Solpiqn 
LeUg ue  aild  (Jo  v  eiuiii I.1  He  liad  been  usher  from  1626  to 
1G28.  An  apartment  in  the  building  is  still  called  from 
him  Brooke  Hall  ('  Chronicles,'  pp.  129,  159). 

The  next  prominent  name  is  that  of  Benjamin  Lany— 
sometimes  Laney,  as  in  Masson's  Milton  (!7§7) — afterwards 
successively  Bishop  of  Peterborough  and  Lincoln  and  Ely. 
We  have  already  noted  his  marked  Protestantism  in  the 
verse-eulogy  of  the  elder  Crashaw,  so  that  probably  it  was 
as  his  father's  son,  Lany,  then  Master  of  Pembroke,  re 
ceived  our  Worthy  there.  ][^2JjEIK!LllLtihfLtf  jf">*Q/1'  ^-"  1  nAA 
The  present  Bishop  of  Ely,  with  all  willingness  to  help  us, 
found  no  MSS.  or  biographic  materials  in  his  custody. 
When  may  we  hope  each  bishopric  will  find  a  qualified 
historian- biographer  ?  A  portrait  of  Lany  is  in  the  Master's 
Lodge  at  the  Charterhouse  ('  Chronicles,'  1847,  p.  140). 

Crashaw's  tutor  at  Pembroke  was  '  Master  Tournav.' 
to  whose  praise  and  friendship  he  dedicates  a  Latin  poem 
(vol.  ii.  pp.  371  et  sqq .).  Dr.  Ward,  Master  of  Sidney  Col 
lege,  writes  to  Archbishop  Usher  thus  of  him  :  '  We  have 


gious :  (2)  that  he  was  not  without  humour  or  power  of  satire.  It 
is  a  man's  loss  to  be  without  humour — he  has  a  poorer  nature  if  he 
be  without  it ;  and  for  myself,  I  relish  the  human-ness  of  some  of 
Crashaw's  earlier  Verse,  as  distinguished  from  his  after  inteusely- 
unearthly  spiritual  Poetry. 


Ivi  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

had  some  doings  here  of  late  about  one  of  Pembroke  Hall, 
who,  preaching  in  St.  Mary's,  about  the  beginning  of  Lent, 
upon  that  text,  James  ii.  22,  seemed  to  avouch  the  insuffi 
ciency  of  faith  to  justificatio^lS3^o*lmplign'""£EB-^oc- 
trine  of  our  llth  Article,  of  Justification  by  faith  only ;  ._ 
for  which  he  was  convented  by  the  Vice- Chancellor,  who 
was  willing  to  accept  of  an  easy  acknowledgment ;  but 
the  same  party  preaching  his  Latin  sermon,  pro  Gradu, 
the  last  week,  upon  Kom.  iii.  28,  he  said  he  came  not 
palinodiam  cancre,  sed  eandem  cantilenam  canere ;  which 
moved  our  Vice- Chancellor,  Dr.  Love,  to  call  for  his  ser 
mon,  which  he  refused  to  deliver.  Whereupon,  upon  Wed 
nesday  last,  being  Barnaby  Day,  the  day  appointed  for 
the  admission  of  the  Bachelors  of  Divinity,  which  must 
answer  Die  Comitiorum,  he  was  stayed  by  the  major  part 

of  the  suffrages  of  the  Doctors  of  the  faculty The 

truth  is,  there  are  some  Heads  among  us  that  are  great 
abettors  of  M.  Tournay,  the  party  above  mentioned,  who, 
no  doubt,  are  backed  by  others'  (June  14,  1643.  Life  of 
Parr,  p.  470  :  Willmott,  1st  series,  pp.  302-3).  In  relation 
to  Tournay's  heresy  on  'Justification,'  it  is  profoundly 
interesting,  biographically,  to  remember  Crashaw's  most 
striking  Latin  poems  —  so  carelessly  overlooked,  if  not 
impudently  suppressed,  by  Turnbull  —  first  published  by 
Crashaw  in  the  volume  of  1648,  viz.  '  Fides,  quse  sola  jus- 
tificat,  non  est  sine  spe  et  dilectione,'  and  '  Baptismus  non 
tollit  f  utura  peccata.'  The  student  will  do  well  to  turn  to 
these  two  poems  in  their  places  (vol.  ii.  pp.  209,  216).1 
Robgrti  fihellgr^j  of  Ringsfield  in  Suffolk,  Priest,'  was 
1  The  following  entry  from  the  Admission-Book  of  Pembroke 
College  refers  to  Crashaw's  Tournay :  '  Mar.  1,  1620.  Joannes  Tur- 
ney,  Cantianus,  annos  habens  [blank]  admissus  est  sizator  sub  cus- 
todia  Mri  Duncon.'  In  another  account  of  the  Fellows  of  Pem 
broke  by  Attwood  in  continuation  of  Bishop  Wren  is  this  :  'Joannes 
Tourney,  Cantianus,  scholaris  Collegii  Mro  Vaughan  [i.  e.  20  Oct. 
1627]  titulum  obtinet  eodem  anno.  An.  1632  Pradicator  Academic. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  Ivii 

another  '  suspect :'  as  in  Huntley's  [=Prynne]  Breviate  (3d 
ed.  1637,  p.  308)  we  read,  '  Master  Shelf ord  hath  of  late 
affirmed  in  print,  that  the  Pope  was  never  yet  defined  to  be 
the  Antichrist  by  any  Synods.'  More  vehemently  writes 
Usher  to  Dr.  Ward  (Sept.  15,  1635)  :  '  But  while  we  strive 
here  to  maintain  the  purity  of  our  ancient  truth,  how 
cometh  it  to  pass  that  you  at  Cambridge  do  cast  such  stum 
bling-blocks  in  our  way,  by  publishing  unto  the  world  such 
rotten  stuff  as  Shelford  hath  vented  in  his  Five  Discourses  ; 
wherein  he  hath  so  carried  himself  utfamosi  Perni  amanu- 
ensem  possis  agnoscere.  The  Jesuits  of  England  sent  over 
the  book  hither  to  assure  tnem  tnat  we  are  now  coming 
horn^crtheirrasfaSt  as  we  can.  I  pray  God  this  sin  be 
not  deeply'Taidlio^Leir  charge,  who  give  an  occasion  to 
our  blind  thus  to  stumble'  (as  before).  It  was  to  these 
'  Five  Discourses'  our  Poet  furnished  a  '  commendatory' 
poem — given  by  us  unmutilated  from  the  volume  (vol.  i. 
pp.  162-5).  Shelford,  like  his  friend,  was  of  Peterhouse. 
Another  college-friend  was  William  Herrvs  (or  Herries  or 
Harris),  who  was  of  Essex.  H!e  died  in  October  1631.  He 
was  of  Pembroke  and  Christ's.  The  poems  and  '  Epitaph' 
consecrated  to  his  memory  are  in  various  ways  remark 
able.  But  beyond  a  few  college- dates,  I  have  failed  to 
recover  notices  of  him.  He  seems  to  have  been  to  Cra- 
shaw  whft*  yyyig  "King-  ^as  to  Milton  and  his  leflow- 
students(vol.  i.  pp.  220-30  ;  vol.  ii"."pp.  378 et  sqq.).1  So  with 
James  Stanninow  (or  Staninough),  'fellow  of  Queene's 

An.  1634,  Thesaurarius  Junior  et  S.  Theologiae  Baccalaureus.  The- 
saurarius  Senior  an.  1635,  et  Attornatus  Collegii  cum  Mro  Vaughan 
in  negotiis  collegium  quocunque  modo  spectantibus.' 

1  From  the  Admission-Book  of  Christ's  College  I  get  the  follow 
ing  :  'Gulielmus  Harris,  Essexieusis,  films  Gulielmi  Equitis  de  Mar- 
gret-Ing.  institutus  in  rudimentis  grammaticis  sub  Mro  Plumtrae 
Scholae  publicae  de  Brentwood  Archididasculo,  admissus  Mar.  2, 1623, 
aetatis  16,  sub  Mro  Siddall.'  The  family  of  Harris,  lords  of  the 
manor  of  Shenfield  in  the  parish  of  Margaret-Ing  in  Essex,  occurs 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

Colledge'— the  poem  on  whose  death  was  first  printed  by 
us  (vol.  i.  pp.  290-92).  He  has  a  Latin  poem  prefixed  to 
Isaacson's  'Chronology'  (our  vol.  i.  pp.  246-49). 1  So  too 
with  '  Master  Chambers,'  of  the  fine  pathetic  hitherto  an 
onymous  poem  '  Vpon  the  death  of  a  Gentleman'  (vol.  i. 
pp.  218-19).  Neither  have  I  been  able  to  add  one  syllable 
to  the  name  and  heading  :  '  An  Epitaph  vpon  Mr.  Ash  ton, 
a  conformable  citizen.'  Wren,  Cosin,  and  others  of  Cam 
bridge,  not  being  named  by  Crashaw,  do  not  come  under 
these  remarks.  The  new  poems  on  J3r.  Porter  (vol.  i.  pp. 
293-4),  Ih\  ManselLQol.  ii-  P-  323),  and  others,  explain 
themselves — with  our  notes.  Of  Cardinal  Palotta,  or  Pa- 
lotto,  we  get  most  satisfying  glimpses  in  Dr.  Bargrave's 
volume  (already  quoted).  The  Protestant  Canon's  tes 
timony  is  :  'He  is  very  papable  [placable],  and  esteemed 
worthy  by  all,  especially  the  princes  that  know  his  virtue 
and  qualities,  being  a  man  of  angelical  life  ;  and  Rome 
would  be  glad  to  see  him  Pope,  to  pull  down  the  pride  of 
the  Barberini.  Innocent  the  Xth,  now  reigning,  hath  a 
great  regard  for  him,  though  his  kindred  care  not  for  him, 
because  he  speaketh  his  mind  freely  of  them  to  the  Pope' 
(p.  36).'  

in  Morant's  '  Essex.'  Sir  William  Herrys  married  Frances  Astley. 
From  Attwood  (as  before)  I  glean  these  farther  entries :  '  Gulielmus 
Ilerrys,  Essexiensis,  Colegii  Christi  alumnus,  Artium  Baccalaureus ; 
electus  et  ille  Jan.  8,  an.  1630.  An.  1631  incipit  in  Artibus.  Mo 
nitor  autem  illo  anno,  Oct.  15.  Optimae  spei  juvenis.'  He  may 
hare  died^  of  the  plague  (cf.  Cooper's  '  Annals  of  Cambridge,'  iii. 
243).  (From  Mr.  Wright,  as  before.) 

1  Stanynough  has  also  verses  in  the  Univ.  Collections  of  1625  and 
1633.     He  was  buried  in  Queen's  College  Chapel,  5  March  1634-5 
(St.  Bot.  Regr.).    I  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  record  the  college 
entries  concerning  him,  from  his  admission  as  pensioner,  30  April 
1622,  to  '  leave  to  forbear  to  take  orders,'  Sept.  1631 :  renewed  22 
July  1633. 

2  The  whole  §,  pp.  34-37,  is  full  of  anecdote  and  of  rare  interest, 
and  sorrowfully  confirmatory  of  Crashaw's  words. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  Hx 

It  only  remains  that  I  notice  our  Crashaw's  friendship 
with  (a)  Abraham  Cowley ;  (6)  the  Countess  of  Den 
bigh. 

(a)  ABRAHAM  COWLEY.     Of  the  alternate  -  poem  on 
Hope,  composed  by  Cowley  and  Crashaw  (vol.  i.  pp.  175- 
181),  and  that  'Vpon    two  greene  Apricockes  sent    to 
Cowley  by  Sir  Crashaw'   (ib.  pp.  269-70),  more  in   our 
next  division.    These  remain  as  the  ever-enduring  '  memo 
rial'  of  their  friendship,  while  the  thought-full,  love-full 
'  Elegy,'  devoted  by  the  survivor  to  the  memory  of  his 
Friend,  can  never  pale  of  its  glory  (vol.  i.  pp.  xxxvi.-viii.). 
All  honour  to  Cowley  that  he  kept  the  traduced  'Apos 
tate'  and  '  Revolter'  in  his  heart -of -hearts,  and 'sought' 
him  out  in  his  lowly  '  lodgings'  in  the  gay,  and  yet  (to 
him)  sad  Paris.     It  is  my  purpose  one  day  worthily  to  re 
produce  the  Works  of  this  in  form  fantastic,  but  in  sub 
stance  most  intellectual,  of  our  Poets ;  and  I  shall  have 
then,  perhaps,  something  additional  to  communicate  on 
this  beautiful  Friendship.     They  had  appeared  together 
as  Poets  in  the  *  Voces  VotivaB.'     The  various  readings 
show  that  Cowley 's  portion  of  Hope  was  revised  in  Paris  ; 
and  this,  with  the  gift  of  the  '  apricockes,'  expresses  that 
^hey  had  some  pleasant  intercourse.1 

(b)  COUNTESS  ft*1  Dp.NBTaw.     By  the  confiding  good 
ness  of  the  present  Earl  and  Countess  of  Denbigh,  I  have, 
among  my  '  Sunny  Memories,'  most  pleasant  hours  of  a 
long  summer   day  spent  in  examining  the  Library  and 
family  MSS.  and  portraits  at  Newnham   Paddox,  and  a 
continued  and  sympathetic  correspondence,  supplemented 
with  kindred  helpfulness  on  the  part  of  the  good  Father- 
priest  of  the  house.     It  is  one  of  the  anomalies  of  our 
national  historic  Biography  that  the  sister  of  Buckingham 
—Susan,  daughter  of  Sir  George  Yilliers,  of  Brokesby,  first 

1  I  find  I  cannot  spare  room  for  Cowley's  own  separate  poem  on 
Hope.  It  is  in  all  the  editions  of  his  Poems. 


Ix  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

Countess  of  Denbigh  —  should  have  died  and  made  no 
*  sign,'  and  left  no  memorial ;  for  it  is  absolutely  unknown 
when  or  where  she  did  die.  But  as  it  is  known  that  she 
became  a  Roman  Catholic,1  while  it  is  not  known  that 
Elizabeth,  daughter  and  co-heir  of  Edward  Bourchier,  Earl 
of  Bath,  who  became  third  wife  (of  four)  of  Basil,  second 
Earl  of  Denbigh,  so  '  changed,'  we  must  conclude  that 
Turnbull  and  others  are  mistaken  in  regarding  the  latter 
as  Crashaw's  '  patron'  and  friend.  The  family-papers  show 
that  Susan  Countess  of  Denbigh  was  a  lady  of  intellect  and 
force  ;  equally  do  they  show  that  Elizabeth  Bourchier  was 
(to  say  the  least)  un-literary.  I  have  from  Newnham  Pad- 
dox  a  sheaf  of  rarely-vivid  and  valuable  Letters  of '  Susan' 
— with  some  of  '  Elizabeth ;'  and  if  I  can  only  succeed  in 
discovering  the  date  of  the  former's  death,  so  as  to  deter 
mine  whether  she  was  living  up  to  Crashaw's  death  in 
1G50,  or  thereby — as  dowager-countess — I  intend  to  pre 
pare  a  short  Monograph  on  her,  wherein  I  shall  print,  for 
the  first  time,  such  a  series  of  Letters  as  will  compare  with 
any  ever  given  to  the  world ;  and  I  should  greatly  like 
to  engrave  her  never-yet  engraved  magnificent  face  at 
Newnham  Paddox.  For  the  present,  a  digression  may 
be  allowed,  in  order  to  introduce,  as  examples  of  these 
recovered  Letters,  a  short  and  creditable  one  from  Buck 
ingham  to  his  mother,  and  one  from  Susan,  Countess  of 
Denbigh,  to  her  son  ;  others,  that  are  long  and  fact-full, 
hereaf terras  supra).  These  in  order  : 

I.  Buckingham  to  his  Mother  [undated]  : 

1  Bishop  Laud,  in  his  Defence,  pleads  that  he  had  retained  many 
in  the  Church  of  England,  and  names  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
spite  of  his  mother's  and  sister's  influence  (Works,  s.n.).  Bucking 
ham's  mother  was  a  fervent  Catholic,  and  here  his  'sister,'  i.  e.  Susan 
first  Countess  of  Denbigh,  is  placed  with  her  as  Roman  Catholic. 
Other  references  go  to  make  the  fact  certain.  I  hope  to  be  called  on 
hereafter  to  give  details  (as  supra). 


POETRY  OF  CKASHAW.  Ixi 

Dere  Mother, —  Give  me  but  as  many  blessings  and  pardons  as  I 
shall  make  falts,  and  then  you  make  happie 

Your  most  obedient  Sonne, 
For  my  Mother.  BUCKINGHAM. 

II.  Susan,  Countess  of  Denbigh,  to  Lord  Fielding  : 

My  deere  Sone, — The  king  dothe  approve  well  of  your  going  into 
Spane,  and  for  my  part  I  thinke  it  will  be  the  best  of  your  traviles 
by  reson  that  the  king  doth  discours  moust  of  that  plase.  I  am 
much  afflicted  for  f eare  of  Mr.  Mason,  but  I  hope  our  Lord  well  send 
him  well  home  againe.  I  pray  do  not  torment  me  with  your  going 
into  the  danger  of  the  plauge  any  more.  So  with  my  blessing  I  lake 
my  leave. 

Your  loveing  Mother, 

For  my  cleare  Sonne  theise.  Su.  DENBIGH. 

The  Yerse-Letters  to  the  Countess  of  Denbigh  (vol.  i. 
pp.  295-303)  will  be  read  with  renewed  interest  in  the 
light  of  the  ail-but  certain  fact  that  it  was  Susan,  sister 
of  Buckingham  —  every  way  a  memorable  woman  —  who 
was  '  persuaded'  by  Crashaw  to  '  join'  Roman  Catholicism, 
as  did  her  mother.1  Reverting  to  the  names  which  I  have 
endeavoured  to  commemorate,  where  hitherto  scarcely 
anything  has  been  known,  it  will  be  perceived  that  the 
circle  of  Crashaw's  friendships  was  a  narrow  one,  and 
touched  mainly  the  two  things — his  University  career,  and 
his  great  '  change'  religiously  or  rather  ecclesiastically.  Of^ 
thePoetsof  his  period,  except  Cowley  and  Ford,  no  trace . 
remains  as* known. to  or  influential  over  him.  When  Cra- 

1  The  poems  entitled  l  Prayer :  an  Ode  which  was  prefixed  to  a 
little  prayer-book  given  to  a  young  gentlewoman/  and  '  To  the  same 
Party:  covncel  concerning  her  choise'  (vol.  i.  pp.  128-137),  have  much 
of  the  sentiment  and  turn  of  wording  of  the  Verse- Letters  to  the 
Countess  of  Denbigh ;  but  I  have  failed  to  discover  who  is  designated 
by  their  'M.  R.'  It  is  clear  she  was  a  'gentle'-born  Lady.  'Mrs.' 
does  not  necessarily  designate  a  married  person.  She  may  have  been 
a  'fair  young  Lady.' 


Ixil  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

shaw  entered  Cambridge,  Giles  Fletcher  had  been  dead 
ten  years  ;  Phineas  Fletcher  and  Herrick  had  left  about 
same  number  of  years ;  Herbert,  for  four  or  five  ;  and 
Milton  was  just  going.  His  most  choice  friends  were 
among  the  mighty  dead.  Supreme  names  later  lay  out 
side  of  his  access.  I  wish  he  had  met— as  he  might  have 
done — Milton.  I  pass  next  to 

in.  His  characteristics  and  place  as  a  Poet.  It  is  some 
thing  '  new  under  the  sun'  that  it  should  be  our  privilege 
well-nigh  to  double  the  quantity  of  the  extant  Poetry  of 
such  a  Singer  as  Richard  Crash  aw,  by  printing,  for  the 
first  time,  the  treasure-trove  of  the  Sancroft- Tanner  MSS.; 
and  by  translating  (also  for  the  first  time)  the  whole  of 
his  Latin  poetry.  Every  element  of  a  true  poetic  faculty 
that  belongs  to  his  own  published  Poems  is  found  in  the 
new,  while  there  are  new  traits  alike  of  character  and 
genius  ;  and  our  Translations  must  be  as  the  '  raising'  of 
the  lid  of  a  gem-filled  casket,  shut  to  the  many  for  these 
(fully)  two  hundred  years/  The  admirer  of  Crashaw  hi 
therto  has  thus  his  horizon  widened,  and  I  have  a  kind 
of  feeling  that  perchance  it  were  wiser  to  leave  the  com 
pleted  Poetry  to  make  its  own  impression  on  those  who 
come  to  it.  Nevertheless  I  must,  however  briefly,  fulfil 
my  promise  of  an  estimate  of  our  Worthy.  Four  things 
appear  to  me  to  call  for  examination,  in  order  to  give  the 
essentials  of  Crashaw  as  a  Poet,  and  to  gather  his  main 
characteristics :  (a\  Imaginaiiye-sensuousness :  (5).  Subtlety 
Q|  emotion  ;  (c)  Epigrams;  (d)  Translations.,  jind  (briefly) 
Latin  and  ffi-flpk  Pnofay  I  wouTH"say  a  littlenoiTeach. 

(a)  Imaginative- sensuousness.  Like '  charity'  for  '  love,' 
the  word  '  sensuous'  has  deteriorated  in  our  day.  It  is,  I 
fear,  more  than  in  sound  and  root  confused  with  '  sensual,' 
in  its  base  application.  I  use  it  as  Milton  did,  in  the 
well-known  passage  when  he  defined  Poetry  to  be  '  simple, 
sensuous,  and  passionate ;'  and  I  qualify  '  sensuousness' 


POETRY  OF  CRASH  AW.  Mil 

with  '  imaginative,'  that  I  may  express  our  Poet's  peculiar 
gift  of  looking  at  everything  with  a  full,  open,  penetra 
tive  eye,  yet  through  his  imagination  ;  his  imagination  not 
being  as  spectacles  (coloured)  astride  the  nose,  but  as 
a  light  of  white  glory  all  over  his  intellect  and  entire 
faculties.  Only  Wordsworth  and  Shelley,  and  recently 
JRpssetti  and  Jean  Ingelow,  are  comparable  with  him  in 
this.  You  can  scarcely  err  in  opening  on  any  page  in 
your  out-look  for  it.  The  very  first  poem, '  The_W£fiper,' 
is  lustrous  with  it.  For  example,  what  a  grand  reach  of 
'imaginative'  comprehensiveness  have  we  so  early  as  in 
the  second  stanza,  where  from  the  swimming  eyes  of  his 
'  Magdalene'  he  was,  as  it  were,  swept  upward  to  the  broad 
transfigured  sky  in  its  wild  ever-varying  beauty  of  the 
glittering  silver  rain ! 

'  Heauns  thy  fair  eyes  be ; 

Heauens  of  ever-falling  starres. 

'Tis  seed-time  still  with  thee  ; 

And  starres  thou  sow'st  whose  haruest  dares 
Promise  the  Earth  to  counter- shine 
Whateuer  makes  heaun's  forehead  fine.' 

How  grandly  vague  is  that  '  counter-shine  whatever,'  as 
it  leads  upwards  to  the  k  forehead' — superb,  awful,  God- 
crowned  —  of  the  '  heauns' !  Of  the  eame  in  kind,  but 
unutterably  sweet  and  dainty  also  in  its  exquisiteness,  is 
stanza  vii. : 

*  The  deaw  no  more  will  weep  dew 

The  primrose's  pale  cheek  to  deck : 

The  deaw  no  more  will  sleep 

Nuzzel'd  in  the  lily's  neck ; 
Much  rather  would  it  be  thy  tear, 
And  leaue  them  both  to  tremble  there.' 

Wordsworth's  vision  of  the  '  flashing  daffodils'  is  not 
finer  than  this.  A  merely  realistic  Poet  (as  John  Clare  or 
Bloomfield)  would  never  have  used  the  glorious  singular, 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

'  thy  tear,'  with  its  marvellous  suggestiveness  of  the  multi 
tudinous  dew  regarding  itself  as  outweighed  in  everything 
by  one  '  tear'  of  such  eyes.  Every  stanza  gives  a  text  for 
commentary ;  and  the  rapid,  crowding  questions  and 
replies  of  ,the  Tears  culminate  in  the  splendid  homage 
to  the  Saviour  in  the  conclusion,  touched  with  a  gentle 

scorn  : 

'  We  goe  not  to  seek 

The  darlings  of  Aurora's  bed, 

The  rose's  modest  cheek, 

Nor  the  violet's  humble  head, 
Though  the  feild's  eyes  too  Weepers  be, 
Because  they  want  such  teares  as  we. 

Much  lesse  mean  to  trace 

The  fortune  of  inferior  gemmes, 

Preferr'd  to  some  proud  face, 

Or  pertch't  rpon  fear'd  diadems  : 
Crown?  d  heads  are  toyes.     We  goe  to  meet 
A  worthy  object,  our  Lord's  feet' 

'  Feet'  at  highest ;  mark  the  humbleness,  and  the  fitness 
too.  Even  more  truly  than  of  Donne  (in  Arthur  Wilson's 
Elegy)  may  it  be  said  of  Crashaw,  here  and  elsewhere, 
thou  '  Couldst  give  both  life  and  sense  unto  a  flower,'— 
faint  prelude  of  Wordsworth's  '  meanest  flower.' 

Dr.  Macdonald  (in  '  Antiphon')  is  perplexingly  unsym 
pathetic,  or,  if  I  may  dare  to  say  it,  wooden,  in  his  criticism 
on  *  The  Weeper  ;'  for  while  he  characterises  it  generally 
as '  radiant  of  delicate  fancy,'  he  goes  on  :  '  but  surely  such 
tones  ar^  not  worthy  of  flitting  moth-like  about  the  holy 
sorrow  of  a  repentant  woman!  Fantastically  beautiful, 
they  but  play  with  her  grief.  Sorrow  herself  would  put 
her  shoes  off  her  feet  in  approaching  the  weeping  Magda 
lene.  They  make  much  of  her  indeed,  but  they  show  her 
little  reverence.  There  is  in  them,  notwithstanding  their 
fervour  of  amorous  words,  a  coldness,  like  that  which 
dwells  in  the  ghostly  beauty  of  icicles  shining  in  the 
moon'  (p.  239).  Fundamentally  blundering  is  all  this  : 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  IxV 

for  the  Critic  ought  to  have  marked  how  the  Poet's 
*  shoes'  are  put  off  his  feet  in  approaching  the  weeping 
Magdalene  ;  but  that  she  is  approached  as  far-back  in  the 
Past  or  in  a  Present  wherein  her  tears  have  been  '  wiped 
away,'  so  that  the  poem  is  dedicate  not  so  much  to  The 
Weeper  as  to  her  Tears,  as  things  of  beauty  and  priceless- 
ness.  Mary,  '  blessed  among  women,'  is  remembered  all 
through  ;  and  just  as  with  her  Divine  Son  we  must  'sor 
row'  in  the  vision  of  His  sorrows,  we  yet  have  the  remem 
brance  that  they  are  all  done,  '  finished  ;'  and  thus  we  can 
expatiate  on  them  not  with  grief  so  much  as  joy.  The 
prolongation  of  '  The  Weeper'  is  no  '  moth-like  flitting 
about  the  holy  sorrow  of  a  repentant  woman,'  but  the 
never-to-be-satisfied  rapture  over  the  evidence  of  a  '  godly 
sorrow'  that  has  worked  to  repentance,  and  in  its  reward 
given  loveliness  and  consecration  to  the  tears  shed.  The 
moon  '  shining  on  icicles'  is  the  antithesis  of  the  truth. 
Thus  is  it  throughout,  as  in  the  backgrounds  of  the  great 
Portrait-painters  as  distinguished  from  Land-scapists  and 
Sea-scapists  and  Sky-scapists — Crashaw  inevitably  works 
out  his  thoughts  through  something  he  has  looked  at  as 
transfigured  by  his  imagination,  so  that  you  find  his  most 
mystical  thinking  and  feeling  framed  (so  to  say)  with  im- 
ages  drawn  from  Nature.  That  he  did  look  not  at  but 
into  Nature,  -let '  On  a  f  oule  Morning,  being  then  to  take 
a  Journey,'  and  '  To  the  Morning  ;  Satisfaction  for  Sleepe,' 
bear  witness.  In  these  there  are  penetrative  '  looks'  that 
Wordsworth  never  has  surpassed,  and  a  richness  almost 
Shakesperean.  Milton  must  have  studied  them  keenly. 
There  is  this  characteristic  also  in  the  '  sensuousness'  of 
Crashaw,  that  while  the  Painter  glorifies  the  ignoble  and 
the  coarse  (as  Hobbima's  Asses  and  red  -  cloaked  Old 
Women)  in  introducing  it  into  a  scene  of  Wood,  or  Way 
side,  or  Sea-shore,  his  outward  images  and  symbolism  are 
worthy  in  themselves,  and  stainless  as  worthy  t  (passing 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

exceptions  only  establishing  the  rule).  His  epithets  are 
never  superfluous,  and  are,  even  to  surprising THci'lfy, 'True. 
Thus  he  calls  Egypt  '  white  Egypt'  (vol.  i.  p.  81) ;  and 
occurring  as  this  does  '  In  the  glorious  Epiphanie  of  ovr 
Lord  God,'  we  are  reminded  again  how  the  youthful  Mil 
ton  must  have  had  this  extraordinary  composition  in  his 
recollection  when  he  composed  his  immortal  Ode.1  Simi 
larly  we  have  '  hir'd  mist'  (vol.  i.  p.  84)  ;  i pretious  losse' 
(ib.)  ;  kfair-ey\l  fallacy  of  Day'  (ib.  p.  85)  ; ' '  black  but 
faithf ull  perspectiue  of  Thee'  (ib.  p.  86) ;  '  abased  liddes' 
(ib.  p.  88);  •  (/rations  robbery'  (ib.  p.  156)  ;  'thirsts  of 

1  The  '  Epiphanie'  has  some  of  the  grandest  things  of  Crashaw, 
and  things  so  original  in  the  thought  and  wording  as  not  easily  to  be 
paralleled  in  other  Poets :  e.g.  '  Dread  Sweet'  (1.  236),  and  the  superb 
'Something  a  brighter  shadow,  Sweet,  of  thee'  (1.  250).  The  most 
Crashaw-like  of  early  '  Epiphany'  or  Christmas  Hymns  is  that  of 
Buhop  Jeremy  Taylor,  from  which  I  take  these  lines  : 

'  Awake,  my  soul,  and  come  away ! 

Put  on  thy  best  array  ; 

Least  ;f  thou  longer  stay, 
Thou  lose  some  minitts  of  so  blest  a  day. 

Goe  run, 

And  bid  good-morrow  to  the  sun  ; 
Welcome  his  safe  return 

To  Capricorn ; 
And  that  great  Morne 
Wherein  a  God  was  borne, 
Whose  story  none  can  tell, 
But  lie  whose  every  word's  a  miracle.' 
4  (Our  ed.  of  Bp.  Taylor's  Poems,  pp.  22-3.) 

En  passant,  since  our  edition  of  Bishop  Taylor's  Poems  was  issued 
we  have  discovered  that  a  'Christmas  Anthem  or  Carol  by  T.  P.,' 
which  appeared  in  James  Clifford's  '  Divine  Services  and  Anthems' 
(1663),  is  Bishop  Taylor's  Hymn.  This  we  learn  from  '  The  Musical 
Times,'  Feb.  1st,  1871,  in  a  paper  on  Clifford's  book.  Criticising  the 
words  as  by  an  unknown  T.  P.— ignorant  that  he  was  really  criticis 
ing  Bp.  Jeremy  Taylor— the  (I  suppose)  learned  Writer  thus  appre 
ciatively  writes  of  the  grand  Hymn  and  these  passionate  yearning 
words :  'Who, for  instance,  could  seriously  sing  in  church  such  stuff 


POETRY  OP  CRASHAW. 

lone'  (ib.) ;  ( timerous  light  of  starres'  (ib.  p.  172) ;  '  rebel 
lious  -eye  of  Sorrow'  (ib.  p.  112)  ;  and  so  in  hundreds  of 
parallels.  Take  this  from  '  To  the  Name  above  every 
Name'  (ib.  p.  GO)  : 

'  O  come  away 

O.  see  the  weary  liddes  of  wakeful!  TTnpP.— 
Love's  eastern  wmdowes — all  wide  ope 

With  curtains  drawn, 
To  catch  the  day -break  of  Thy  dawn. 
O,  dawn  at  last,  long-lookt-for  Day, 
Take  thine  own  wings,  and  come  away.' 

Comparing  Cowley's  and  Crashaw's  'Hope,'  Coleridge 
thus  pronounces  on  them  :  '  Crashaw  seems  in  his  poems 
to  have  given  the  first  ebullience  of  his  imagination, 
unshapen  into  form,  or  much  of  what  we  now  term  sweet 
ness.  In  the  poem  Hope,  by  way  of  question  and  an 
swer,  his  superiority  to  Cowley  is  self-evident ;'  and  he 
continues,  '  In  that  on  the  Name  of  Jesus,  equally  so  ;  but 
his  lines  on  St.  Teresa  are  the  finest.'  '  Where  he  does 
combine  richness  of  thought  and  diction,  nothing  can  ex- 
eel,  as  in  the  lines  you  so  much  admire, 
Since  'tis  not  to  be  had  at  home 

She'l  to  the  Moores  and  martyrdom.'1 

And  then  as  never-to-be-forgotten  '  glory'  of  the  Hymn 
to  Teresa,  he  adds :  '  these  verses  were  ever  present  to 
my  mind  whilst  writing  tkft  nmrmrl  part  of  ChristabeJ  ;  if 
indeed,  by  some  subtle  process  of  the  mind,  they  did  not 


as  the  following  Christmas  Anthem  or  Carol,  by  T.  P.?  which  Mr. 
William  Childe  (not  yet  made  Doctor)  had  set  to  music.'  Ahem! 
And  so  on,  in  stone-eyed,  stone-eared  stupidity. — Of  modern  celebra 
tions  I  name  as  worthy  of  higher  recognition  than  it  has  received 
the  following  '  Hymn  to  the  Week  above  every  Week,'  by  Thomas 
II.  Gill;  Lon.,  Mudie,  1844  (pp.  24).  There  is  no  little  of  the  rich 
quaint  matter  and  manner  of  our  elder  Singers  in  this  fine  Poem. 
1  Cf.  vol.  i.  p.  143. 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

suggest  the  first  thought  of  the  whole  poem'  (Letters 
and  Conversations,  1836,  i.  196).  Coleridge  makes  another 
critical  remark  which  it  may  be  worth  while  to  adduce 
and  perhaps  qualify.  '  Poetry  as  regards  small  Poets  may 
be  said  to  be,  in  a  certain  sense,  conventional  in  its  acci 
dents  and  in  its  illustrations.  Thus  [even]  Crashaw  uses 
an  image  "  as  sugar  melts  in  tea  away  ;"  which  although 
proper  then  and  true  now,  was  in  bad  taste  at  that  time 
equally  with  the  present.  In  Shakespeare,  in  Chaucer, 
there  was  nothing  of  this'  (as  before).  The  great  Critic 
forgot  that  '  sugar'  and  '  tea'  were  not  vulgarised  by  fami 
liarity  when  Crashaw  wrote,  that  the  wonder  and  romance 
of  their  gift  from  the  East  still  lay  around  them,  and  that 
their  use  was  select,  not  common.  Thus  later  I  explain 
Milton's  homeliness  of  allusion,  as  in  the  word  '  breakfast,' 
and  '  fell  to,'  and  the  like  ;  words  and  places  and  things 
that  have  long  been  not  prosaic  simply,  but  demeaned 
and  for  ever  unpoetised.  I  am  not  at  all  careful  to  defend 
the  '  sugar'  and  '  tea'  metaphor  ;  but  it,  I  think,  belongs 
also  to  his  imaginative-sensuousness,  whereby  orient  aw- 
fulness  almost,  magnified  and  dignified  it  to  him. 

Moreover  the  canon  in  '  Antiphon'  is  sound :  '  When 
we  come,  in  the  writings  of  one  who  has  revealed  master  - 
dom,  upon  any  passage  that  seems  commonplace,  or  any 
figure  that  suggests  nothing  true,  the  part  of  wisdom  is  to 
brood  over  that  point ;  for  the  probability  is  that  the 
barrenness  lies  in  us,  two  factors  being  necessary  for  the 
result  of  sight— the  thing  to  be  seen,  and  the  eye  to  see  it. 
No  doubt  the  expression  may  be  inadequate  ;  but  if  we 
can  compensate  the  deficiency  by  adding  more  vision,  so 
much  the  better  for  us'  (p.  243). 

I  thank  Dr.  George  Macdonald"  (in  'Antiphon')  for 

1  Like  Macaulay  in  bis  History  of  England  (1st  edition),  Dr. 
Macdonald  by  an  oversight  speaks  of  Crasbaw  as  'expelled  from 
Oxford,'1  instead  of  Cambridge  (cf.  our  vol.  i.  p.  32). 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

his  quaint  opening  words  on  our  Crashaw,  and  forgive 
him,  for  their  sake,  his  blind  reading  of  '  The  Weeper.' 
'  I  come  now  to  one  of  the  loveliest  of  our  angel-birds, 
Kichard  Crashaw.  Indeed,  he  was  like  a  bird  in  more 
senses  than  one  ;  for  he  belongs  to  that  class  of  men  who 
seem  hardly  ever  to  get  foot-hold  of  this  world,  but  are 
ever  floating  in  the  upper  air  of  it'  (p.  238).  True,  and 
yet  not  wholly  ;  or  rather,  if  our  Poet  ascends  to  '  the  upper 
air,'  and  sings  there  with  all  the  divineness  of  the  skylark, 
like  the  skylark  his  eyes  fail  not  to  over- watch  the  nest 
among  the  grain  beneath,  nor  his  wings  to  be  folded  over 
it  at  the  shut  of  eve.  Infinitely  more,  then,  is  to  be  found 
in  Crashaw  than  Pope  (in  his  Letter  to  his  friend  Henry 
Cromwell)  found  :  '  I  take  this  poet  to  have  writ  like  a 
gentleman  ;  that  is,  at  leisure  hours,  and  more  to  keep 
out  of  idleness  than  to  establish  a  reputation  :  so  that 
nothing  regular  or  just  can  be  expected  of  him.  All  that 
regards  design,  form,  fable  (which  is  the  soul  of  poetry), 
all  that  concerns  exactness,  or  consent  of  parts  (which  is 
the  body),  will  probably  be  wanting  ;  only  pretty  concep 
tions,  fine  metaphors,  glittering  expressions,  and  some 
thing  of  a  neat  cast  of  verse  (which  are  properly  the 
dress,  gems,  or  loose  ornaments  of  poetry),  may  be  found 
in  these  verses.'  Nay  verily,  the  form  is  often  exquisite  ; 
but  '  neat'  and  '  pretty  conceptions'  applied  to  such  verse 
is  as  '  pretty'  applied  to  Niagara  —  so  full,  strong,  deep, 
thought-laden  is  it.  I  haVe  no  wish  to  charge  plagiarism 
on  Pope  from  Crashaw,  as  Peregrine  Phillips  did  (see 
onward)  ;  but  neither  is  the  contemptuous  as  ignorant 
answer  by  a  metaphor  of  Hayley  to  be  received.  The  two 
minds  were  essentially  different :  Pope  was  talented,  and 
used  his  talents  to  the  utmost ;  Crashaw  had  absolute  as 
unique  genius.1 

1  The  Letter  of  Pope  to  Mr.  Henry  Cromwell  is  in  all  the  edi 
tions  of  his  Correspondence.    Willmott  (as  before)  also  gives  it  in 

VOL.  ii.  a  6 


1XX  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

(6)  Subtlety  of  emotion.  Dr.  Donne,  in  a  memorable 
passage,  with  daring  originality,  sings  of  Mrs.  Drury  rap 
turously  : 

*  Her  pure  and  eloquent  soul 
Spoke  in  her  cheeks,  and  so  distinctly  wrought, 
That  one  might  almost  say  her  body  thought.' 

I  have  much  the  same  conception  of  Crashaw's  thinking. 
It  was  so  emotional  as  almost  always  to  tremble  into  feel 
ing.  Bare  intellect,  'pure'  (—naked)  thought,  you  rarely 
come  on  in  his  Poems.  The  thought  issues  forth  from  (in 
old-fashioned  phrase)  the  heart,  and  its  subtlety  is  some 
thing  unearthly  even  to  awfulness.  Let  the  reader  give 
hours  to  the  study  of  the  composition  entitled  '  In  the 
glorious  Epiphanie  of  ovr  Lord  God,  a  Hymn  svng  as  by 
the  three  Kings,'  and  '  In  the  holy  Nativity  of  ovr  Lord 
God.'  Their  depth  combined  with  elevation,  their  gran 
deur  softening  into  loveliness,  their  power  with  pathos, 
their  awe  bursting  into  rapture,  their  graciousness  and 
lyrical  music,  their  variety  and  yet  unity,  will  grow  in  their 
study,  j^s  always,  there  is  a  solid  substratum  of  original 
thought  in  them  ;  and  the  thinking,  as  so  often  in  Crashaw, 
is  surcharged  with  emotion.  If  the  thought  may  be 

extenso.  Of  The  Weeper  Pope  says  :  '  To  confirm  what  I  have  said, 
you  need  but  look  into  his  first  poem  of  The  Weep 


4t,h,.Gth,  Mill,  21st  stan/as  arc  as  sublimely  dull  as  the  7th,  8th,  !>fh. 
16th,  17th,  20th,  and  *2Hd  stanzas  oF  the  same  copy  arc  soft  and 
pleasing.  "And  If  these  last  want  anything,  it  is  an  easier  and  more 
unaffected  expression.  The  remaining  thoughts  in  that  poem  might 
have  been  spared,  being  either  but  repetitions,  or  very  trivial  and  mean. 
And  by  this  example  orie  may  guess  at  all  the  rest  to  be  like  this  ;  a 
mixture  of  tender  gentle  thoughts  and  suitable  expressions,  of  forced 
and  inextricable  conceits,  and  of  needless  fillers-up  of  the  rest,'  &c.  &c. 
'  Sweet'  is  the  loftiest  epithet  Pope  uses  for  Crashaw,  and  that  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  '  Suspicion  of  Herod.'  In  The  Weeper  he  passes 

some   Of  the  very  finest  things.      Tit-frig  ^Aholard  a^ul  F.lnisn  frft  jpp.nr- 

r.pahaw's  '  Alexias'  within  invp.rtpd  commas  ^ 


but  elsewhere  is  not  very  careful  to  mark  indebtedness. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

likened  to  fire,  the  praise,  the  rapture,  the  yearning  may 
be  likened  to  flame  leaping  up  from  it.  Granted  that,  as 
in  fire  and  flame,  there  are  coruscations  and  jets  of  smoke, 
yet  is  the  smoke  that  '  smoak'  of  which  Chudleigh  in  his 
Elegy  for  Donne  sings : 

'  Incense  of  love's  and  fancie's  holy  smaaJc-1 

or,  rather,  that  '  smoke'  which  filled  the  House  to  the 
vision  of  Isaiah  (vi.  4).  The  hymn  'To  the  admirable 
Sainte  Teresa,'  and  the  'Apologie'  for  it,  and  related 
'  Flaming  Heart,'  and  '  In  the  glorious  Assvmption  of  our 
Blessed  Lady,'  are  of  the  same  type.  Take  this  from  the 
'  Flaming  Heart'  (vol.  i.  p.  155) : 

'  Leaue  her  .  .  .  the  flaming  heart : 
Leaue  her  that,  and  thou  shalt  leaue  her 
Not  one  loose  shaft,  but  Loue's  whole  quiver. 
For  in  Loue's  Jeild  was  neuerjound 
A  nobler  weapon  than  a  wovnd. 
Loue's  passiues  are  his  actiu'st  part, 
The  wounded  is  the  wounding  heart. 

Liue  here,  great  heart;  and  loue  and  dy  and  kill, 
And  bleed  and  wound;  and  yeild  and  conquer  still.' 

His  homage  to  the  Yirgin  is  put  into  words  that  pass  the 
bounds  which  we  Protestants  set  to  the  '  blessed  among 
women'  in  her  great  renown,  and  even  while  a  Protestant 
Crashaw  fell  into  what  we  must  regard  as  the  strange 
as  inexplicable  forgetfulness  that  it  is  The  Man,  not 
The  Child,  who  is  our  ever-living  High-Priest  '  within  the 
veil,'  and  that  not  in  His  mother's  bosom,  but  on  the 
Throne  of  sculptured  light,  is  His  place.  Still,  you  re 
cognise  that  the  homage  to  the  Virgin-mother  is  to  the 
Divine  Son  through  hey,  and  through  her  in  fine  if  also 
mistaken  humility.  '  Mary'  is  the  Muse  of  Crashaw  ; 
the  Lord  Jesus  his  '  Lord'  and  hers.  I  would  have  the 
reader  spend  willing  time,  in  slowly,  meditatively  reading 


ESSAY  ON  THH  LIFE  AND 

the  whole  of  our  Poet's  sacred  Yerse,  to  note  how  the 
thinking  thus  thrills  into  feeling,  and  feeling  into  rap 
ture — the  rapture  of  adoration.  It  is  miraculous  how  he 
finds  words  wherewith  to  utter  his  most  subtle  and  van 
ishing  emotion.  Sometimes  there  is  a  daintiness  and  an 
tique  richness  of  wording  that  you  can  scarcely  equal  out 
of  the  highest  of  our  Poets,  or  only  in  them.  Some  of 
his  images  from  Nature  are  scarcely  found  anywhere  else- 
For  example,  take  this  very  difficult  one  of  ice,  in  the 
Verse-Letter  to  the  Countess  of  Denbigh  (vol.  i.  p.  298, 
11.  21-26),  'persuading'  her  no  longer  to  be  the  victim  of 
her  doubts : 

'  So,  when  the  Year  takes  cold,  we  see 

Poor  waters  their  own  prisoners  be; 

Fettered  and  loc&d-upjast  they  lie 

In  a  cold  self -captivity. 

"^      Th'  astonish'd  Nymphs  their  Floud's  strange  fate  deplore, 
To  find  themselves  their  own  severer  shoar.' 

Young  is  striking  in  his  use  of  the  ice-metaphor  : 

'  in  Passion's  flame 
Hearts  melt;  but  melt  like  ice,  soon  harder  Jroze."1 

(Night-Thoughts,  N.  n.  1.  522-3.) 

But  how  strangely  original  is  the  earlier  Poet  in  so  cun 
ningly  working  it  into  the  very  matter  of  his  persuasion  ! 
Our  quotation  from  Young  recalls  that  in  the  'Night- 
Thoughts'  there  are  evident  reminiscences  of  Crashaw : 
e.g. 

'  Midnight  veil'd  his  face  : 

Not  such  as  this,  not  such  as  Nature  makes ; 

A  midnight  Nature  shudder'd  to  behold ; 

A  midnight  new  ;  a  dread  eclipse,  without 

Opposing  spheres,  from  her  Creator's  frown.' 

(Night  iv.  11.  246-250..) 

So  in  l  Gilt  was  Hell's  gloom'  (N.  vn.  1.  1041),  and  in  this 
portrait  of  Satan : 

'  Like  meteors  in  a  stormy  sky,  how  roll 
His  baleful  eyes !'  (N.  ix.  11.  280-1.)  and 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

'  the  fiery  gulf, 
That  flaming  bound  of  wrath  omnipotent ;'      (Ib.  11.  473-4) 

and 

'Banners  streaming  as  the  comet's  blaze;'          (Ib.  1.  323) 

and 

<  Which  makes  a  hell  of  hell,'  (Ib.  1.  340) 

we  have  the  impress  and  inspiration  of  our  Poet. 

How  infinitely  soft  and  tender  and  Shakesperean  is  the 
1  Epitaph  vpon  a  vovng  Married  Covple  dead  and  bvryed 
together'  (with  its  now  restored  lines),  thus ! — 

'  Peace,  good  Reader,  doe  not  weep ; 

Peace,  the  louers  are  asleep.  J 

They,  sweet  turtles,  folded  ly 
In  the  last  knott  that  Loue  could  ty. 
And  though  they  ly  as  they  were  dead, 
Their  pillow  stone,  their  sheetes  of  lead 
(Pillow  hard,  and  sheetes  not  warm), 
Loue  made  the  bed ;  they'l  take  no  harm  : 
Let  them  sleep;  let  them  sleep  on, 
Till  this  stormy  night  be  gone, 
And  the  seternall  morrow  dawn ; 
Then  .  .  .  .'  (vol.  i.  pp.  230-1.) 

The  hush,  the  tranquil  stillness  of  a  church-aisle,  within 
which  '  sleep'  old  recumbent  figures,  comes  over  one  in 
reading  these  most  pathetically  beautiful  words.  Of  the 
whole  poem,  Dodd  in  his  '  Epigrammatists'  (as  onward) 
remarks,  'after  reading  this  Epitaph,  all  others  on  the 
same  subject  must  suffer  by  comparison.  Yet  there  is 
much  to  be  admired  in  the  following  by  Bishop  Hall,  on 
Sir  Edward  and  Lady  Lewkenor.  It  is  translated  from 
the  Latin  by  the  Bishop's  descendant  and  editor,  the  Rev. 
Peter  Hall  (Bp.  Hall's  Works,  1837-9,  xii.  331) : 

'  In  bonds  of  love  united,  man  and  wife, 
Long,  yet  too  short,  they  spent  a  happy  life ; 
United  still,  too  soon,  however  late, 
Both  man  and  wife  receiv'd  the  stroke  of  fate : 
And  now  in  glory  clad,  enraptur'd  pair, 


1XX1V  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

The  same  bright  cup,  the  same  sweet  draught  they  share. 
Thus,  first  and  last,  a  married  couple  see, 
In  life,  in  death,  in  immortality.' 

There  is  much  beauty  also  in  an  anonymous  epitaph  in 
the  '  Festoon'  143,  '  On  a  Man  and  his  Wife  :' 
'  Here  sleep,  whom  neither  life  nor  love, 

Nor  friendship's  strictest  tie, 
Could  in  such  close  embrace  as  thou, 

Their  faithful  grave,  ally  ; 
Preserve  them,  each  dissojy'd  in  each, 

For  bands  of  love  divine, 
For  union  only  more  complete, 

Thou  faithful  grave,  than  thine.'       (p.  253.) 

His  '  Wishes  to  his  (supposed)  Mistresse'  has  things  in 
it  vivid  ancTsubtle  as  anything  in  Shelley  at  his  best ;  and 
I  affirm  this  deliberately.  His  little  snatch  on  l_  Easter 
Dftfi/  with  some  peculiarities,  culminates  in  a  grandeur 
Milton  might  bow  before.  The  version  of  'J3ies  Irae'  is 
wonderfully  severe  and  solemn  and  intense.  T?.nannTnmon 
undoubtedly  knew  it.  And  so  we  might  go  on  endlessly. 
His  melody — with  exceptional  discords — is  as  the  music  of 
a  Master,  not  mere  versification.  Once  read  receptively, 
and  the  words  haunt  almost  awfully,  and,  I  must  again 
use  the  word,  unearthlily.  Summarily — as  in  our  claim  for 
Vaughan,  as  against  the  preposterous  traditional  asser 
tions  of  his  indebtedness  to  Herbert  poetically,  while 
really  it  was  for  spiritual  benefits  he  was  obligated — we 
cannot  lor  an  instant  rank  George  Herbert  as  a  Poet  with 
Crashaw.  Their  piety  is  alike,-  or  the  '  Priest'  of  Bemer- 
ton  is  more  definite,  and  clear  of  the  *  fine  mist'  of  mys 
ticism  of  the  recluse  of  '  Little  St.  Mary's  ;'  but  only  very 
rarely  have  you  in  '  The  Temple'  that  light  of  genius 
which  shines  as  a  very  Shekinah-glory  in  the  '  Steps  to  the 
Temple.'  These  '  Steps'  have  been  spoken  of  as  '  Steps' 
designed  to  lead  into  Herbert's  '  Temple,'  whereas  they 
were  'Steps'  to  the  'Temple'  or  Church  of  the  Living 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

God.  Crashaw  '  sang'  sweetly  and  generously  of  Herbert 
(vol.  i.  pp.  139-140)  ;  but  the  two  Poets  are  profoundly 
distinct  and  independent.  Clement  Barksdale,  probably, 
must  bear  the  blame  of  foolishly  subordinating  Crashaw 
to  Herbert,  in  his  Lines  in  '  Nympha  Libethris'  (1651)  : 

'  HERBERT  AND  CRASHAW. 

When  unto  Herbert's  Temple  I  ascend 
By  Crashaw's  Steps,  I  do  resolve  to  mend 
My  lighter  verse,  and  my  low  notes  to  raise, 
And  in  high  accent  sing  my  Maker's  praise. 
Meanwhile  these  sacred  poems  in  my  sight 
I  place,  that  I  may  learn  to  write.' 

(c)  Epigrams.  The  title-page  of  the  Epigr.  Sacra  of 
1670  marks  out  for  us  their  main  dates ;  that  is  to  say, 
as  it  designates  him  Collegii  Petrensis  Socius,'  which  he 
was  not  until  i  637,  the  only  portion  that  belongs  to  that 
period  must  be  the  additions  made  in  the  1670  edition 
(see  vol.  ii.  pp.  3-4).  Dr.  Macdonald  (in  '  Antiphon')  ob 
serves  :  '  His  Divine  Epigrams  are  not  the  most  beautiful, 
but  they  are  to  me  the  most  valuable,  of  his  verses,  inas 
much  as  they  make  us  feel  afresh  the  truth  which  he  sets 
forth  anew.  In  them  some  of  the  facts  of  our  Lord's  life 
and  teaching  look  out  upon  us  as  from  clear  windows  of 
the  Past.  As  epigrams,  too,  they  are  excellent — pointed 
as  a  lance'  (p.  240).  He  limits  himself  to  the  'English' 
Epigrams,  and  quotes  after  above,  Nos.  LIV.  (2)  and  xi. ; 
and  continues  with  No.  XIV.,  and  next  LIV.  (1)  ;  on  which 
he  says  :  '  I  value  the  following  as  a  lovely  parable.  Mary 
is  not  contented  ;  to  see  the  place  is  little  comfort.  The 
church  itself,  with  all  its  memories  of  the  Lord,  the  Gos 
pel-story,  and  all  theory  about  Him,  is  but  His  tomb  until 
we  find  Himself ;'  and  he  closes  with  one  which  he  thinks 
is  '  perhaps  his  best,'  viz.  No.  I.1  We  too  may  give  it : 

1  He  alsp  quotes,  as  complete  in  themselves  and  'best  alone,' 
these  two  lines  from  No.  LI.  : 


.         ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

'  Two  went  up  into  the  Temple  to  pray, 
Two  went  to  pray  !  O,  rather  say, 
One  went  to  brag,  th'  other  to  pray. 
One  stands  up  close,  and  treads  on  high, 
Where  th'  other  dares  not  send  his  eye. 
One  neerer  to  God's  altar  trod  ; 
The  other  to  the  altar's  God.'      (vol.  ii.  p.  35.) 

The  admiring  critic  on  this  proceeds :  '  This  appears  to 
me  perfect.  Here  is  the  true  relation  between  the  forms 
and  the  end  of  religion.  The  priesthood,  the  altar  and 
all  its  ceremonies,  must  vanish  from  between  the  sinner 
and  his  God.  When  the  priest  forgets  his  mediation  of 
a  servant,  his  duty  of  a  door-keeper  to  the  temple  of 
truth,  and  takes  upon  him  the  office  of  an  intercessor,  he 
stands  between  man  and  God,  and  is  a  satan,  an  adver 
sary.  Artistically  considered,  the  poem  could  hardly  be 
improved'  (p.  241).  '  Artistically,'  nevertheless,  it  is  a  won 
der  Dr.  Macdonald  did  not  detect  Turnbull's  mis-reading 
of 'lend'  for  'send'  (1.  4).  Bellew  in  his  Poet's  Corner 
reads  '  bend,'  which  is  equally  poor  for  '  tendit.'  There 
follows  No.  XLII.,  '  containing  a  similar  lesson  ;?  and  finally 
No.  XLV.  p.  196,  whereof  he  says  :  '  The  following  is  a  world 
wide  intercession  for  them  that  know  not  what  they  do. 


'  This  new  guest  to  her  eyes  new  laws  hath  given ; 

'Twas  once  look  up,  'tis  now  look  down  to  heaven.' 

Dr.  Robert  Wilde  in  his  Epitaph  upon  E.  T.  has  the  same  idea,  and 
puts  it  quaintly : 

'  Reader,  didst  thou  but  know  what  sacred  dust 

Thou  tread'st  upon,  thou'dst  judge  thyself  unjust 

Shouldst  thou  neglect  a  shower  of  tears  to  pay, 

To  wash  the  sin  of  thy  own  feet  away . 

That  actor  in  the  play,  who,  looking  down 

When  he  should  cry  '  0  heaven !'  was  thought  a  clown 

And  guilty  of  a  solecism,  might  have 

Applause  for  such  an  action  o'er  this  grave. 

Here  lies  a  piece  of  Heaven ;  and  Heaven  one  day 

Will  send  the  best  in  heaven  to  fetch't  away.' 

(Hunt's  edition,  p.  30.) 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

Of  those  that  reject  the  truth,  who  can  be  said  ever  to 
have  truly  seen  it  ?  A  man  must  be  good  to  see  truth.  It 
is  a  thought  suggested  by  our  Lord's  words,  not  an  irre 
verent  opposition  to  the  truth  of  them'  (p.  242). 

Now  that,  besides  the  (relatively)  few  Epigrams  which 
were  translated  by  Crashaw  himself,  the  whole  are  trans 
lated  (for  the  first  time),  and  now  too  that,  exclusive  of 
longer  Latin  poems,  a  goodly  addition  has  been  made  by 
us  to  them,  the  reader  will  find  it  rewarding  to  turn  and 
return  on  this  remarkable  section  of  Crashaw's  poetry. 
Conceits  there  are,  grotesque  as  gargoyles  of  a  cathedral,  - 
oddities  of  symbolism,  even  passing  into  unconscious  play 
ing  with  holy  words  and  things  never  to  be  played  with  ; 
but  each  has  a  jewel  of  a  distinct  thought  or  sentiment, 
and  often  the  wording  is  felicitous,  albeit,  as  in  all  his 
Latin  verse,  not  invariably  without  technical  faults  of 
quantity  and  even  syntax.  I  had  marked  very  many  for 
specific  criticism  ;  but  I  must  refrain.  Our  translation  is 
perhaps  a  better  commentary.  To  my  co-workers  and 
myself  it  has  been  a  labour  of  love.  I  must  close  our 
notice  of  Crashaw  as  an  Epigrammatist  with  some  paral 
lels  from  '  The  Epigrammatists'  of  the  Rev.  Henry  Philip 
Dodd,  M.A.  (1870).  Under  No.  cxvu.,  '  On  Pontius  Pilate 
washing  his  hands,'  he  has  this :  '  In  Elsum's  Epigrams 
on  Paintings,  1700,  is  one  on  a  picture  by  Andrea  Sacchi 
of  Pilate  washing  his  hands,  translated  from  Michael  Silos, 
De  Romana  Pictura  et  Sculptura'  (Ep.  17)  : 

'  O  cursed  Pilate,  villain  dyed  in  grain, 
A  little  water  cannot  purge  thy  stain ; 
No,  Tanais  can't  do't,  nor  yet  the  main. 
Dost  thou  condemn  a  Deity  to  death, 
Him  whose  mere  love  gave  and  preserv'd  thy  breath  ?' 

Similarly,  under  No.  LI.  '  On  the  Blessed  Virgin's  Bashful- 
ness,'  he  has  this  :  '  Some  lines  "  To  the  Blessed  Virgin 
at  her  Purification,"  by  the  old  epigrammatist  Bancroft, 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

are  almost  as  beautiful  in  sentiment  as  this  exquisite  piece 
(Book  ii.  86)  : 

Why,  favourite  of  Heaven,  most  fair, 

Dost  thou  bring  fowls  for  sacrifice  ? 

Will  not  the  armful  thou  dost  bear, 

That  lovely  Lamb  of  thine,  suffice  ?' 

Of  the  exceptionally  celebrated,  not  exceptionally  supe 
rior  Epigram  on  '  The  Water  turned  Wine,'  which  some 
how  has  been  given  by  a  perverse  continued  blunder  to 
Dry  den,  Aaron  Hill's  masterly  translation  may  be  read 
along  with  those  given  by  us  in  the  place  (vol.  ii.  pp.  96-7)  : 

'  When  Christ  at  Cana's  feast  by  pow'r  divine 
Inspir'd  cold  water  with  the  warmth  of  wine; 
See  !  cried  they,  while  in  red'ning  tide  it  gush'd, 
The  bashful  stream  hath  seen  its  God,  and  blustid."1 

Dryden's  '  The  conscious  water  saw  its  God,  and  blush'd,' 
is  c,  mere  remembrance  of  Crashaw.1 

(d)  Translations  and  (briefly]  Latin  and  Greek  Poetry. 
It  may  seem  semi-paradoxical  to  affirm  it,  but  in  our  opin 
ion  the  genius  of  Crashaw  shines  with  its  fullest  splendour 
in  his  Translations,  longer  and  shorter.  Even  were  there 
not  his  wonderful  'Suspicion  of  Herod'  and  'Musick's  Duell,' 
this  might  be  said  ;  for  in  his  '  Dies  Irae,'  and  '  Hymne 

1  The  '  conceit'  is  found  in  Yida's  Christiad,  lib.  ii.  431,  iii.  984  : 
also  in  a  Hymn  of  St,  Ambrose.     Cf.  too  Psalm  Ixvii.  16.     Victor 
Hugo  has  adapted  it  as  follows  :  '  Here  is  a  whimsical  explanation  ' 
of  the  miracle  of  the  wedding  at  Cana  in  Galilee : 

^    La  nymphe  de  ces  eaux  aper^ut  Jesus-Christ, 
Et  son  pudique  front  de  rougeur  se  couvrit.' 
The  nymph  of  these  waters  perceived  Jesus  Christ, 
And  her  modest  brow  was  dyed  with  shame. 

(Victor  Hugo:  a  Life,  1863,  i.  269).  Whence  the  brilliant  French 
man  fetched  his  'whimsical  explanation'  is  not  doubtful.  In  the 
last  line  of  Crashaw's  epigram  the  reading  in  Poemata  Anglorum 
Latina  is 

'  Vidit  et  erubuit  nympha  pudica  Deum.' 
'  Lympha'  is  inferior,  and  a  (mis)reading  for  '  nympha.' 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

out  of  Sainte  Thomas,'  and  others  lesser,  there  are  feli 
cities  that  only  a  genuine  Maker  could  have  produced. 
His  '  Dies  Irae '  was  the  earliest  version  in  our  language. 
Roannipmon.  and  Scott  alike  wrote  after  and  '  after'  it. 
But  it  is  on  the  two  truly  great  Poems  named  we  found 
our  estimate.  Turning  to  '  Musick's  Duell,'  as  we  ask  the 
reader  to  do  now  (vol.  i.  197-203),  we  have  only  to  read 
critically  the  Latin  of  Strada,  from  whence  it  is  drawn,  to 
discern  the  creative  gift  of  our  Poet.  Here  it  is  : 

Jam  Sol  a  medio  pronus  deflexerat  orbe 
Mitius,  e  radiis  vibrans  crinalibus  ignem, 
Cum  Fidicen,  propter  Tiberina  fluenta,  sonanti 
Lenibat  plectra  curas,  aestumque  levabat, 
Ilice  defensus  nigra  scenaque  virenti. 
Audiit  bunc  bospes  silvae  Pbilomela  propinquae 
Musa  loci,  nemoris  siren,  innoxia  siren; 
Et  prope  succedens  stetit  abdita  froudibus,  alte 
Accipiens  sonituui,  secumque  remurmurat,  et  quos 
Ille  modos  variat  digitis,  haec  gutture  reddit. 
Sensit  se  Fidicen  Pbilomela  imitante  referri, 
Et  placuit  ludum  volucri  dare;  plenius  ergo 
Explorat  citbaram,  tentamentumque  futurae 
Praebeat  ut  pugnae,  percussit  protinus  omnes 
Impulsu  pernice  fides,  nee  segnius  ilia. 
Mille  per  excurrens  variae  discrimina  vocis, 
Venturi  specimen  praefert  argutula  cantus. 
Tune  Fidicen  per  fila  movens  trepidantia  dextram, 
Nunc  contemnenti  similis  diverberat  ungue, 
Depectitque  pari  cbordas,  et  simplice  dtictu  : 
Nunc  carptim  replicat,  digitisque  micantibus  urget 
Fila  minutatim,  celerique  repercutit  ictu. 
Mox  silet.     Ilia  modis  totidem  respondet,  et  artem 
Arte  refert.     Nunc  seu  rudis  aut  incerta  canendi 
Projicit  in  longum,  nulloque  plicatile  flexu 
Carmen  init,  simili  serie,  jugique  tenore, 
Praebet  iter  liquidum  labenti  e  pectore  voce; 
Nunc  caesim  variat,  modulisque  canora  minutis. 
Delibrat  vocem,  tremuloque  reciprocat  ore. 
Miratur  Fidicen  parvis  e  faucibus  ire 


1XXX  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

Tarn  varium,  tarn  dulce  melos;  majoraque  tentans 
Alternat  mira  arte  fides  ;  dum  torquet  acutas 
Inciditque,  graves  operoso  verbere  pulsat, 
Permiscetque  simul  certantia  rauca  sonoris, 
Ceu  resides  in  bella  viros  clangore  lacessat. 
Hoc  etiam  Philomela  canit :  dumque  ore  liquenti 
Vibrat  acuta  sonum,  modulisque  interplicat  aequis ; 
Ex  inopinato  gravis  intonat,  et  leve  murmur 
Turbinat  introrsus,  alternantique  sonore 
Clarat,  et  infuscat  ceu  martia  classica  pulset. 
Scilicet  erubuit  Fidicen,  .... 
Non  imitabilibus  plectrum  concentibus  urget. 
Namque  manu  per  fila  volat,  simul  hos,  simul  illos 
Explorat  numeros,  chordaque  laborat  in  omni, 
Et  strepit,  et  tinnit,  crescitque  snperbius,  et  se 
Multiplicat  religens,  plenoque  choreumate  plaudit.1 
It  will  be  noted  by  the  student  that  such  word-painting 
as  in  these  lines  belongs  to  Crashaw,  not  Strada  : 

'  and  streightway  she 
Carves  out  her  dainty  voyce  as  readily. 

Through  the  sleeke  passage  of  her  open  throat 
A  clear  unwrinckled  song; 

closes  the  sweet  quarrell,  rowsing  all, 
Hoarce,  shrill  at  once ;  as  when  the  trumpets  call 
Hot  Mars  to  th1  harvest  of  Death's  field,  and  woo 
Men's  hearts  into  their  hands :' 

staggers  in  a  warbling  doubt 
Of  dallying  siveetnesse,  hovers  o'er  her  skill, 
4And  folds  in  wa'v'd  notes  with  a  trembling  bill 

a  tide 

Of  streaming  sweetnesse,  which  in  state  doth  ride 
On  the  wav'd  backe  oj  every  swelling  strains, 
Rising  and  jailing  in  a  pompous  traine. 

Thus  high,  thus  low,  as  if  her  silver  throat 
Would  reach  the  brazen  voyce  of  War's  hoarce  bird. 

1  From  Prolusiones  of  Strada. 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

....  his  hands  sprightly  as  fire,  he  flings 
And  with  a  quavering  coyntsse  tasts  the  strings. 
The  sweet-lip't  sisters,  musically  frighted, 
Singing  their  f eares,  are  fearef ally  delighted, 
Trembling  as  when  Appolo's  golden  haires 
Are  Jan  d  andjrizled,  in  the  wanton  ayres 
Of  his  own  breath:  which  marry  ed  to  his  lyre 
Doth  tune  the  spheares. 

with  nectar  drop, 
Softer  than  that  which  pants  in  Hebe's  cup. 

The  lute's  light  genius  now  does  proudly  rise, 
Heaved  on  the  surges  of  swolne  rapsodyes, 

Creeps  on  the  soft  touch  of  a  tender  tone.' 

In  the  words  of  Willmott  (as  before),  '  We  shall  seek  in 
vain  in  the  Latin  text  for  the  vigour,  the  fancy,  and  the 
grandeur  of  these  lines.  These  remain  with  Crashaw,  of 
whose  obligations  to  Strada  we  may  say,  as  Hayley  [stu 
pidly,  if  picturesquely]  remarked  of  Pope's  debt  to  Cra 
shaw,  that  if  he  borrowed  anything  from  him  in  this 
article,  it  was  only  as  the  sun  borrows  from  the  earth, 
when,  drawing  from  thence  a  mere  vapour,  he  makes  it 
the  delight  of  every  eye,  by  giving  it  all  the  tender  and 
gorgeous  colouring  of  heaven'  (vol.  i.  p.  323).  The  rich 
ness  and  fulness  of  our  Poet  as  a  Translator  becomes  the 
more  clear  when  we  place  beside  his  interpretation  of 
Strada  the  '  translations'  of  others,  as  given  in  the  places 
(vol.  i.  pp.  203-6).  A  third  (anonymous)  version  we  dis 
covered  among  the  Lansdowne  MSS.  3910,  pt.  Ixvi.,  from 
which  we  take  a  specimen  : 

'  Now  the  declininge  sunn  'gan  downward  bende 
From  higher  heauene,  and  from  his  locks  did  sende 
A  milder  flame ;  when  neere  to  Tyber's  flowe 
A  Lutaniste  allayde  his  caref  ull  woe, 
With  sondinge  charmes,  and  in  a  greeny  seate 
Of  shady  oake,  toke  shelter  from  the  heate. 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

A  nitingale  ore-hard  hym  that  did  use 
To  soiourne  in  ye  neighbour  groues,  the  Muse 
That  files  the  place,  the  syren  of  the  wood : 
Poore  harmeles  Syren,  stelingneere  she  stood 
Close  lurkinge  in  the  leaues  attentiuely  : 
Recordinge  that  vnwonted  mellodye, 
She  condt  it  to  herselfe,  and  every  straine 
His  fingers  playde,  her  throat  return'd  againe.' 

And  so  to  the  end  (MS.  3910,  pp.  114-17).  We  have  re 
served  until  now  incomparably  the  second,  but  only  a 
far-off  second,  to  Oashaw's,  from  John  Ford's  'Lover's 
Melancholy'  (1029)  ;  which  probably  was  our  Poet's  guide 
to  Strada.  Here  is  the  substance  of  the  fine  reminiscent 
version,  from  act  i.  scene  1  : 

Menaphon.  A  sound  of  music  touched  mine  ears,  or  rather, 
Indeed,  entranced  my  soul.     As  I  stole  nearer, 
Invited  by  the  melody,  I  saw 
This  youth,  this  fair-faced  youth,  upon  his  lute, 
With  strains  of  strange  variety  and  harmony, 
Proclaiming,  as  it  seemed,  so  bold  a  challenge 
To  the  clear  choristers  of  the  wood,  the  birds, 
That  as  they  nocked  about  him  all  stood  silent, 
Wondering  at  what  they  heard.    I  wondered  too. 

Amethus.      And  do  so  I :  good,  on. 

Men.  A  nightingale, 

Nature's  best-skilled  musician,  undertakes 

The  challenge,  and  for  every  several  strain 

The  well-shaped  youth  could  touch,  she  sung  her  own  : 

He  could  not  run  division  with  more  art 

Vpon  his  quaking  instrument  than  she 

The  nightingale  did  with  her  various  notes 

Reply  to :  for  a  voice  and  for  a  sound, 

Amethus,  'tis  much  easier  to  believe 

That  such  they  were,  than  hope  to  hear  again. 

Ameth.          How  did  the  rivals  part  ? 

Men.  You  term  them  rightly. 

For  they  were  rivals,  and  their  mistress,  Harmony. 
Some  time  thus  spent,  the  young  man  grew  at  last 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW. 

Into  a  pretty  anger,  that  a  bird, 

Whom  art  had  never  taught  cliffs,  moods,  or  notes, 

Should  vie  with  him  for  mastery,  whose  study 

Had  busied  many  hours  to  perfect  practice. 

To  end  the  controversy,  in  a  rapture, 

Vpon  his  instrument  he  plays  so  swiftly 

So  many  voluntaries,  and  so  quick, 

That  there  was  curiosity  and  cunning, 

Concord  in  discord,  lines  of  differing  method 

Meeting  in  one  full  centre  of  delight. 

Ameth.  Now  for  the  bird. 

Men.  The  bird,  ordained  to  be 

Music's  first  master,  strove  to  imitate 
These  several  sounds;  which  when  her  warbling  throat 
Failed  in,  for  grief  down  dropped  she  on  his  lute, 
And  brake  her  heart.    It  was  the  quaintest  sadness, 
To  see  the  conqueror  upon  her  hearse 
To  weep.1 

Comment  is  needless  on  such  pale,  empty  literality,  as  com 
pared  with  the  vitality  and  elan  of  Crashaw,  in  all  but 
Ford's  ;  while  even  Ford's  is  surpassed  in  every  way  by 
the  '  Musick's  Duell.' 

The  '  Suspicion  of  Herod,'  by  Marino  (c.  i.),  is  a  grand 
poem  in  the  original.  Milton  knew  it,  and  was  taken  by 
it.  Our  Poet  had  glorious  materials  whereon  to  work, 
accordingly,  when  he  turned  Translator  of  this  all-too- 
little  known  Singer  of  Italy.  But  Crashaw's  soul  was 
more  spacious,  his  imagination  more  imperial,  his  voca 
bulary  wealthier,  than  even  Marino's.  The  greatness  and 
grandeur  and  force  of  the  Italian  roused  the  Englishman 
to  emulation.  Willmott  (as  before)  has  placed  the  ori 
ginal  Italian  beside  Crashaw's  interpretation,  and  the  ad 
vance  in  the  Translator  on  his  original  is  almost  startling. 

1  Gifford  here  has  one  of  his  many  singular  notes,  because  he 
could  think  of  no  other  meaning  than  'merriment'  for  '  mirth,'  which, 
as  *  joy'  or  '  gladness,'  is  quite  in  place,  and  indeed  accurately  descrip 
tive  of  the  combined  gladness  and  sadness  of  the  pathetic  contest. 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

We  prefer  adducing  Crashaw,  and  then  giving  a  close  ren 
dering  of  the  original :   e.g. 

'  He  saw  Heav'n  blossome  with  a  new-borne  light, 
On  ivhich,  as  on  a  glorious  stranger,  gaz'd 
The  golden  eyes  of  Night.''  (st.  xvii.) 

literally  in  Marino  : 

'  lie  sees  also  shining  from  heaven, 

With  beauteous  ray,  the  wondrous  star, 

Which,  brilliant  and  beautiful,  goes 

Pointing  the  way  straight  towards  Bethlehem.' 
Again  : 

'  He  saw  how  in  that  blest  Day -bearing  Night, 

The  Heav'n-rebuked  shades  made  hast  away ; 

How  bright  a  dawne  of  angels  with  new  light 

Amazed  the  midnight  world,  and  made  a  Day 

Of  which  the  Morning  knew  not.'  (st.  xv.) 

literally  in  Marino  : 

'  He  sees  the  quiet  shades  and  the  dark 

Horrors  of  the  happy,  holy  Night 

Smitten  and  routed  by  heavenly  voices, 

And  vanquished  by  angelic  splendours.' 

Once  more  :  when  Alecto,  the  most  terrible  of  the  infer 
nal  sisters,  ascends  to  Earth  at  the  command  of  Satan  : 
'  Heav'n  saw  her  rise,  and  saw  Hell  in  the  sight : 
The  fields'  faire  eyes  saw  her,  and  saw  no  more, 
But  shut  their  flowry  lids  for  ever;'  (st.  xlviii.) 

for 

'  Parvero  i  fiori  intorno  e  la  verdura 
4$entir  f orza  di  peste,  ira  di  verno ;' 
literally : 

'  soon  as  Hell  had  vomited  out 
This  monster  from  the  dark  abyss, 
The  flowers  all  around  and  the  verdure  appeared 
To  feel  the  strength  of  the  plague,  the  Jury  of  winter."1 
This  naked  simplicity  of  wording  is  very  fine  :    yet  do 
Crashaw's  adornments  bring  new  charm  to  Marino.     The 
soliloquy  of  Satan,  though  close  as  the  skin  to  the  body, 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  IxXXV 

has  a  ruddiness  (so-to-say)  from   Crashaw.     'Nothing  in       ^ 
Milton  is  grander  than  st.  xxv.  to  xxx.  ;  and  in  all  there 
are  touches  from  the  cunning  hand  of  Crashaw  :  e.  g. 

'  And  for  the  never-fadiny  fields  of  light?        (st.  xxvii.) 
for  Marino's 

'  Che  piii  pud  farmi  omai  chi  la  celeste 
Reggia  mi  tolse,  e  i  regni  i  miei  lucenti  T 
literally  : 

'  What  more  can  He  now  do  to  me,  Who  took 
From  me  the  heavenly  palace  and  my  bright  realms?' 

Again  : 

'  Bow  our  bright  heads  before  a  king  of  day?     (st.  xxviii.) 
for  Marino's 

'Voile  alle  forme  sue  semplici  e  prime, 
Natura  sovralzar  corporea  e  bassa, 
E  de'  membri  del  ciel  capo  sublime 
Far  di  limo  terrestre  eterna  massa  ;' 

literally : 

'  He  turns  to  his  simple  primitive  forms, 
To  raise  Nature  above  the  corporeal  and  low, 
And  to  make  an  unworthy  mass  of  earthly  clay 
The  sublime  head  of  the  heavenly  members.' 

Compare  also  st.  x.  in  Crashaw  with  the  original  as  liter 
ally  rendered :  / 

'  Disdainef  ull  wretch,  how  hath  one  bold  sinne  cost 

Thee  all  the  beauties  of  thy  once  bright  eyes ! 

How  hath  one  black  eclipse  canceled  and  crost 

The  glories  that  did  gild  thee  in  thy  rise  ! 

Proud  morning  of  a  perverse  day,  how  lost 

Art  thou  unto  thy  selfe,  thou  too  selfe-wise 
Narcissus  !  foolish  Phaeton,  who  for  all 
Thy  high-aym'd  hopes,  gaind'st  but  a  flaming  fall.'' 

Literally  in  Marino  : 

'  O  wretched  Angel,  once  fairer  than  light, 
How  thou  hast  lost  thy  primeval  splendour ! 

VOL.  ii.  a  7 

\ 


ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 


Thou  shalt  have  from  the  eternal  Requiter 

Deserved  punishment  for  the  unjust  crime: 

Proud  admirer  of  thy  honours, 

Rebellious  usurper  of  another's  seat  ! 

Transformed,  and  fallen  into  Phlegethon, 

Proud  Narcissus,  impious  Phaethon  !' 

Milton  takes  from  Crashaw,  not  Marino,  in  his  portrait 
of  the  Destroyer  : 

'  From  Death's  sad  shades  to  the  life-breathing  ayre 

This  mortall  enemy  to  mankind's  good 

Lifts  his  malignant  eyes,  wasted  with  care, 

To  become  beautifull  in  humane  blood.''  (st.  xi.) 

Literally  in  Marino  : 

'  He  from  the  shades  of  death  to  the  living  air, 
Envious  in  truth  of  our  human  state, 
Lifted  aloft  his  eyes  by  where 
The  hollow  vent-hole  opened  straight  down.' 
Well-nigh  innumerable  single  lines  and  words  are  inevit 
ably  marked  :  e.  g. 

'  the  rebellious  eye 
Of  sorrow.'  (st.  xlix.) 

So  the  eyes  of  Satan  : 

'  the  sullen  dens  of  Death  and  Night 

Startle  the  dull  ayre  with  a  dismal  red;'  (st.  vii.) 

for  Marino's 

'  Negli  occhi  ove  mestizia  alberga  e  morte, 

Luce  nammeggia  torbida  e  vermiglia;' 
literally  : 

'  In  the  eyes  where  sadness  dwells  and  death 

A  turbid  vermilion-coloured  light  shines.' 
Again  :  the  sun  is  seen  by  the  Tempter  to 

Make  proud  the  ruby  portalls  of  the  East;'     (st.  xvi.) 
for  '  la  Reggia  Oriental.'  Crashaw  has  the  same  vivid  fancy 
in  the  Hymn  for  Epiphany  :  —  - 

'  Aurora  shall  set  ope 

Her  ruby  casements.' 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  IxXXVU 

Finally,  to  show  that  even  where  our  Translator  keeps 
closest  to  the  original,  he  yet  gives  the  creative  touches  of 
which  I  have  already  spoken,  read  his  st.  v.  beside  this 
literal  translation  : 

'  Under  the  abysses,  at  the  very  core  of  the  world, 
In  the  central  point  of  the  universe, 
Within  the  bowers  of  the  darkest  deep, 
There  stands  the  fiendly  perverse  Spirit : 
With  sharp  thongs  an  impure  group 
Binds  him  with  a  hundred  snakes  athwart : 
With  such  bonds  girds  him  for  ever, 
The  great  champion  who  conquered  HIM  in  Paradise.' 

Thus  we  might  go  over  the  entire  poem,  and  everywhere 
we  should  gather  proofs  that  he  was  himself  all  he  con 
ceived  in  his  splendid  portraiture  of  the  true  Poet's  genius : 

'  no  rapture  makes  it  live 
Drest  in  the  glorious  madnesse  of  a  Muse, 
Whose  feet  can  walke  the  Milky  Way, 
Her  starry  throne,  and  hold  up  an  exalted  arm 
TO  lift  me  from  my  lazy  urn  and  climbe 
Upon  the  stooped  shoulders  of  old  Time, 
'And  trace  eternity.'  (vol.  i.  p.  238.) l 

Fully  to  estimate  Crashaw's  own  grander  imaginative 
faculty  the  Reader  must  study  here  the  now-first-printed 
and  very  Miltonic  poems  on  Apocalypse  xii.  7  (Vol.  II.  pp. 
231-3)  and  '  Christe,  veni'  (ib.  pp.  223-5).  It  is  profoundly 
to  be  regretted  that  our  Poet  should  have  limited  himself  to 
Book  i.  of  the '  Strage  degli  Innocent!,'  viz. '  Sospetto  d'  He- 
rode.'  Book  vii.  especially, '  Delia  Gerusalemme  Distruta,' 
would  have  demanded  all  his  powers.  The  entire  poem 
was  '  done  in  English,'  and  it  is  '  done1  (by  T.  R.  1675). 

1  ProlessorM  'Garth  v.  who  finds  the  influence  of  Crashaw  in 
Shelley,  has~"t!ugg<Ubleil  une  line  from  the  '  Suspicion'  as  a  motto  for 
Hood's  '  Song  of  the  Shirt,'  viz.  in  st.  xliii. 

'  They  prick  a  bleeding  heart  at  every  stitch.' 
(N.  and  Q.  2d  S.  v.  449-52.) 


IxXXvlii  ESSAY  ON  THE  LIFE  AND 

With  reference  to  our  own  Translations  of  Crashaw,  if 
in  some  instances  we  have  enlarged  on  our  original,  and 
adventured  to  fill-in  what  in  the  Latin  the  Poet  is  fet 
tered  in  uttering,  may  we  apologise  by  pleading  his  own 
example  as  a  Translator,  though  with  unequal  steps  and 
far  off  ?  I  would  specify  the  very  remarkable  '  Bulla,'  in 
which,  indeed,  I  find  Crashaw's  highest  of  pure  poetic 
faculty  within  the  region  of  Fancy  in  its  delicatest  and 
subtlest  symbolisms  ;  also  the  scarcely  less  remarkable  ad 
dress  '  To  the  Reader'  ('  Lectori')  ;  and  his  '  Fides  &c.  &c.' 
and  his  classical  legends  of  '  Arion,'  and  his  University 
'  Laments'  and  '  Appeals'  for  Peterhouse.  Throughout, 
my  co-workers  and  myself  have  aimed  to  give  the  thought 
of  Crashaw  ;  and,  unless  I  egregiously  mistake,  we  have 
together  earned  some  gratitude  from  admirers  of  our 
Worthy. 

i  leave  to  other  Scholars  to  deal  critically  with  the 
Latin  and  Greek  of  these  Poems  and  Epigrams  now  first 
translated.  Read  unsympathetically,  I  fear  that  very  often 
his  quantities  and  versification  will  be  regarded  as  bar 
barous  ;  but  we  have  done  something,  it  is  believed,  to 
neutralise  Turnbull's  most  discreditable  misprints  herein, 
as  in  the  English  Poems.  In  the  places  (vol.  ii.  pp.  5-6, 
244,  and  332)  we  have  recorded  some  of  his  more  flagrant 
blunders  ;  but  besides  we  have  silently  corrected  as  many 
more  of  the  original  and  early  editions. 

That  Crashaw  was  not  an  accurate  scholar  the  Greek 
Epigrams  (as  well  as  some  of  the  Latin  ones)  furnish  suf 
ficient  proof.  Of  the  many  obvious  errors  in  quantity 
and  construction,  I  have  only  corrected  such  as  may  have 
been  mere  oversights,  some  of  them  perhaps  caused  by 
his  MS.  having  been  misread ;  in  other  cases  I  have  followed 
the  original  editions,  and  corrected  the  numerous  errors 
made  by  Turnbull  from  his  nqt  being  able  to  read  the 
Greek  ligatures  &c.  It  may  be  well  to  indicate  a  few  of 


POETRY  OF  CRASHAW.  Ixxxix 

the  typical  corrections  that  I  felt  obliged  to  make,  and 
note  other  lapses  which  I  did  not  feel  justified  in  altering. 

In  XI.  last  line,  airf^nrrov  for  a.r6$ntrov  ;  CXXI.  last  line,  e?jv 
for  e?7 ;  cxxv.  line  5,  **«>'  for  KM  ;  CLXXX.  line  1  has  TTAC&I/TJ 
as  if  the  penult  were  long  instead  of  short,  and  &\t]p.i  an  un 
used  form,  so  that  the  line  offends  both  quantity  and  usage — 
it  might  be  amended  thus,  Els  ^.ev  67^,  y  p-ov  re  ir\dvr)  TCfpirfffv, 
a\wfJLat  ;  CLXXXII.  line  1,  eWjSaAA.ec  for  firi&a\\ev  ;  CLXXXIII. 
line  2,  ffvK6/juope  should  be  o-uK^uope,  but  altered  for  scansion; 
line  3,  fKKpfifju>r)s  should  perhaps  be  fKKpri/j.i'as  ;  line  4,  unscan- 
able ;  and  in  CXXV.  line  4,  Sacriois  should  be  Sacrfffiv.  ovpavbs, 
the  penult  of  which  is  short,  he  uses  as  either  long  or  short. 

I  must  add,  that  the  accentuation  was  as  often  wrong 
as  right.  I  have  carefully  corrected  it  throughout.  And 
this  seems  to  me  to  be  the  only  allowable  way  of  re 
producing  Crashaw.  An  Editor  cannot  be  held  responsible 
for  his  Author  writing  imperfect  Greek  or  Latin,  any  more 
than  for  his  mistakes  either  in  opinion  or  in  matters-of- 
fact  or  taste. 

Anderson's  and  Chalmers'  Poets,  and  Peregrine  Phil 
lip's  Selections,  and  Turnbull's  edition  in  Russell  Smith's 
'  Old  Authors'  and  that  in  Gilfillan's  Poets  (a  selection 
only),  are  our  predecessors  in  furnishing  Crashaw's  Poetry. 
We  confess  to  a  feeling  of  just  pride  (shall  we  say  ?)  in 
being  the  first  worthily  and  adequately  to  present  as  re 
markable  Poetry,  in  its  own  region,  as  is  anywhere  to  be 
found.  RICHARD  CRASHAW  has  assuredly  not  yet  gathered 
all  his  fame.1 

ALEXANDER  B.  GROSART. 

1  1  place  here  a  copy  of  the  document  that  had  gone  astray  (Vol.  I. 
p.  xxxv. :  '  It  results  from  a  Papal  Bull  dated  24th  April  1649,  that 
Richard  Crashaw,  an  Englishman,  was  admitted  to  a  benefice  ('  Bene- 
ficiato')  of  the  Basilica-Church  of  our  Lady  of  Loreto,  through  strong 
interest  in  his  favour  by  Cardinal  Pallotta,  then  Protector  of  the  so- 
called  Holy  House  of  Loreto,  and  in  whose  service  Richard  Crashaw 
was.  But  as  it  appears  from  another  Bull  dated  25th  August  1649, 


XC         THE  LIFE  AND  POETRY  OF  CRASH  AW. 

that  a  successor  was  named  to  Richard  Crashaw,  it  is  evident  that 
he  was  a  Beneficiary  in  Loreto  for  only  about  three  months— too 
short  a  time  to  furnish  sufficient  materials  for  the  illustration  of  his 
biography. — N.B.  A  Beneficiary  in  ecclesiastical  hierarchy  is  a  grade 
under  a  Canon,  and  his  duty  in  church  is  more  assiduous  than  that 
of  the  Canon;  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  a  Beneficiary  before  be 
coming  a  Canon,' 


fatin 

PART   FIRST.       SACRED. 


I. 

EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA, 

(1634-1670.) 


VOL.  II. 


NOTE. 

THE  earliest  appearance  of  CRASHAW  as  a  poet  was  in  the  Uni 
versity  Collections  of  Latin  Verse  on  the  (then)  usual  conven 
tional  occasions  of  royal  births  and  deaths,  and  the  like.  These 
pieces  will  he  found  in  their  places  in  the  present  volume.  The 
place  of  honour  herein  we  assign  to  his  own  published  volume 
of  1634,  of  which  the  following  is  the  title-page,  within  a  neat 
woodcut  border : 


EPIGRAM- 
MATUM 

SACRORUM 
LIBER. 


University  Printer's  ornament, 
with  legend,  '  Hinc.  Lvcem.  Et. 
Pocula.  Sacra.'  and  'Alma  Ma 
ter.' 


Cantabrigiae, 

Ex  Academiae  celeberrimae 
typographeo.   1634. 


This  is  a  small  duodecimo.  Collation :  Title-page— Epistle- 
dedicatory  to  LANY,  with  the  poems,  «  Salve,  alme  custos  Pierii 
gregis,'  &c.  — Venerabili  viro  Magistro  Tournay,  Tutori  suo 
summe  observando— Ornatissimo  viro  Praeceptori  suo  eolendis- 
simo,  Magistro  Brook— Lectori  (verse  and  prose),  seven  leaves : 
Epigrammata  Sacra,  pp.  79. 


NOTE.  O 

A  second  edition  of  this  volume  appeared  in  1670.    Its 
title-page  is  as  follows  : 

RICHARD!    CRASHAWI 
POEMATA 

et 

EPIGRAMMATA, 

Quae  scripsit  Latina  &  Graeca, 
Dum  Aulce  Pemb.  Alumnus  fuit, 

Et 
Collegii  Petrensis  Socius. 

Editio  Secunda,  Auctior  &  emendatior. 


E'lveKfV  €v(j.a.Q'n)s  irivirrotypovos,  ty 

**B.ffKf]aiv,  Movffwv  &/j.fjLiya  Kal  Xapiruv. 


[Printer's  ornament,  as  before.] 


Cantabrigige, 

Ex  Officina  Joan.  Hayes,  Celeberrimse  Academiae 
Typographi.   1670. 

This  is  an  8vo.  Collation:  Title-page  —  and  to  Brook,  as 
before  ;  then  these  additional  Latin  poems  :  In  Picturam  Re- 
verendissimi  Episcopi  D.  Andrews  —  Votiva  Domtis  Petrensis 
pro  Domo  Dei  —  In  cseterorum  Operum  difficili  Paiiuritione 
Gemitns  —  Epitaphium  in  Gulielmum  Hemsium  —  In  Eundem 
—  Natalis  Principis  Marise  —  In  Serenissimae  Reginae  partum 
hyemalem  —  Natalis  Ducis  Eboracensis  —  In  faciem  Augustiss. 
Regis  a  morbillis  integram  —  Ad  Carolum  Primum,  Rex  Redux 
—Ad  Principem  nondum  natum,  Regina  gravid^.  Bastard-title, 


4  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

'  Epigrammata  Sacra,  qure  scripsit  Grasca  et  Latina' — Lectori 
(as  before),  nine  leaves  :  Epigrammata  Sacra,  pp.  67. 

The  additions  to  the  second  edition  —  besides  the  Latin 
poems  enumerated — were  in  the  Epigrams  these :  No.  1,  Pha- 
risaeus  et  Publicanus,  Greek  version— No.  11,  Obolum  Viduse, 
ib. — No.  53,  Ecce  locus  ubi  jacuit  Dominus,  ib. — No.  120,  In 
descensum  Spiritus  sancti,  ib. — No.  124,  In  S.  Columbam  ad 
Christi  caput  sedentem,  ib. — No.  141,  Ad  D.  Lucam  medicum, 
ib.—No.  148,  In  stabulurn  ubi  natus  est  Dominus,  ib. — No.  161, 
Hie  lapis  fiat  panis,  ib. — No.  177,  In  die  Ascensionis  Domi 
nica),  ib. — No.  178,  Caecus  implorat  Christum,  Latin  and  Greek 
— No.  179,  Quis  ex  vobis,  &c.  ib. — No.  180,  Herodi  D.  Jaco- 
bum  obtruncati,  ib.  —  No.  181,  Casci  receptis,  &c.  ib. — and 
No.  182,  Zaccheus  in  sycomoro. 

A  third  edition  was  issued  in  1674.  It  is  identical  with  that 
of  1670,  save  in  the  date  on  title-page,  printer's  ornament,  and 
this  line  at  bottom :  '  Prostant  venales  apud  Joann.  Creed.'1 
Probably  consisted  of  '  remainders'  of  1670  edition. 

As  the  edition  of  1634  was  published  during  the  author's 
residence  in  the  University,  and  so  under  his  own  eye,  I  have 
made  it  the  basis  of  our  text,  though  with  a  vigilant  eye  on  the 
later  corrections ;  but  have  given  from  the  edition  of  1670  the 
Greek  versions  of  certain  of  the  Epigrams,  and  those  added 
(as  above).  The  Epistle-dedicatory  to  Lany,  and  related  in 
troductory  poems  of  1634,  alone,  I  prefix  to  the  Epigrammata 
Sacra,  assigning  the  other  poems  more  fittingly  to  the  Secular 
Poems  (as  annotated  in  the  places).  The  Editor  of  the  second 
edition,  '  auctior  et  emendatior,'  has  not  been  transmitted.  For 
more  on  the  editions  of  the  Epigrammata  Sacra,  see  our  Essay 
and  Notes  and  Illustrations.  As  explained  in  our  Prefatory 
Note,  the  translations  of  the  Latin  Poemata  et  Epigrammata, 
as  of  thfe  others,  follow  the  originals  successively.  A.  denotes 
the  translator  to  be  THOMAS  ASHE,  M.A.,  Ipswich  ;  B.,  CLEMENT 
BARKSDALE  (from  '  Epigrammata  Sacra  selecta,  cum  Anglica 
Versione.  Sacred  Epigrams  Englished.  London :  Printed  for 
John  Barksdale,  Bookseller  in  Cirencester.  1682.'  12mo) ; 
CL.,  Rev.  J.  H.  CLARK,  M.A.,  West  Dereham,  Norfolk;  CB., 
CRASHAW  himself ;  G.,  myself ;  W.,  Rev.  W.  AKIS  WILLMOTT 
(from  his  '  Lives  of  the  Sacred  Poets,'  s.  n.  Crashaw) ;  and 
R.  Wi.f  Rev.  RICHARD  WILTON,  M.A.,  Londesborough  Rectory, 
Market  Weighton.  In  the  present  and  succeeding  division  those 


NOTE. 


Epigrams  translated  by  Crashaw  himself  are  given  under  the 
related  Latin  —  all  from  the  original  text  of  1646,  as  before. 
They  consist  of  Nos.l,  2,  8,  9,  11,  14,  15,  20,  21,  26,  29,  36,  40, 
42,  43,  47,  49,  51,  54  (two),  56,  57,  63,  64,  68,  85,  91,  93,  101, 
104, 106, 108,  115,  117,  140,  157,  160,  164,  169,  184,  and  185  in 
the  present,  and  of  Nos.  21,  22,  28,  42,  46,  and  55  in  next  sec 
tion. 

It  only  remains  that  I  add  here,  instead  of  noticing  in  their 
places,  the  following  more  flagrant  errors  of  Turnbull  in  the 
'  Epigrammata'  and  related  '  Poemata  Latina  et  Graeca.'  Simi 
lar  lists  will  be  found  in  the  introductory  notes  to  the  several 
divisions  of  this  volume. 

In  the  Epistle  to  Lany,  line  18,  avidi  for  avide ;  line  29, 
amore  for  amare ;  in  the  Ode,  st.  ii.  line  1,  ipsi  for  ipse.  In 
the  address  '  Lectori,'  line  7,  abi  for  alis ;  line  29,  putre  for 
putri;  line  48,  mens/ormeus;  line  53,  fingit/or  finget;  line  70, 
graves  for  gravis ;  line  97,  tota  dropped  out ;  line  120,  negat/or 
neget ;  in  succeeding  prose,  line  29,  Acygmanos  for  acygnianos. 

The  misprints  in  the  Epigrammata  are  so  numerous,  that  it 
is  deemed  expedient  to  tabulate  them  according  to  our  num 
bering.  On  the  errors  in  the  Greek,  see  our  Preface  to  the 
present  Volume. 


No. 

1,  line  4,  ille/or  hie. 

2,  heading,  Victorem/or  vec- 

torem. 

3,  1.  1,  ori/or  oris. 

6,  1.  2,  mess  for  mea. 

7,  1.  4,  tanto  for  tanti. 

8,  1.  1,  vulnere/or  vulnera. 
10,  1.  1,  tumidus/or  timidus. 
12,  heading,  Luc.  x.  30  for  x. 

39  ;  and  so  often. 
19,  1.  4,  decas  for  decus. 

30,  1.  3,  Te  ne  for  Tene. 

31,  heading,  credebunt for  cre- 

debant. 

44,  1.  1,  tumere/or  tenuere. 

45,  1.  2,  mala  for  male. 

48,  1.  1,  Christe/or  Christi. 
60,  1.  4,  fecere  for  fuere. 


65,  1.  7,  adnixus/or  ad  nixus. 

67,  1. 1,  Inf antes/or  infantis. 

69,  heading,  meditur/or  me- 
detur. 

78,  1.  2,  pati/orpeti. 
101,  1.  4,  aqua  for  aquas. 
108,  1.  8,  oculos  for  oculus. 
Ill,  1.  3,  natalis  for  natales. 

114,  1.  2,  utere  for  uteri. 

115,  1.  4,  queas/or  queat. 
120,  heading,  Domini  for  Do- 

minicam. 
„     1.  6,  Phoebe  for  Phcobo. 

122,  heading,  traduit  for  tra- 

deret. 

123,  1.  2,  nescis  for  nescio. 
125,  1.  1,  volueris  for  volu- 

cris. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 


No. 

126,  heading,  Divi/or  Divo. 

132,  heading,  Christo  for 
Christi. 

135,  heading  left  out. 

140,  1.  2,  ilia /orille. 

149,  1.  2,  quae/or  qua. 

153,  1.  3,   colubres  for  colu- 
bros. 

155,  heading,  Domini  for  Do 
minic  ee. 

158,  1.  3,  par  for  per. 

161,  1.  8,  fieris/or  fieres. 
,,     1.  12,  solis  for  solio. 


No. 

164,  1.  1,  Daemone  for  Dae- 
mona. 

169,  heading,  lavante  for  la- 

vanti. 
,,     1. 2,  virginea/or  virgineae. 

170,  1.  5,  decies/or  denis. 
172,  1.  1,  vidis/or  vides. 

176,  1. 16,  dominum  for  domi- 

nam. 
„     1.  73,  ista/oriste. 

177,  1.  20,  metu  for  nutu. 
182,  1.2,  fide/orfida. 


The  whole  of  these,  with  others  belonging  to  Crashaw  him 
self  and  his  first  editors,  are  carefully  corrected  in  our  edition. 
G. 


KEVERENDO  ADMODUM  VIRO 
BENJAMINO  LA^Y,1 

SS.  THEOLOGIAB  PROFESSORI,  AULAE  PEMBROCHIANAE  CUSTODI 
DIGNISSIMO,  EX  SUORUM  MINIMIS  MINIMUS, 

R.  C[RASHAW] 

CUSTODIAM  COELESTEM 

P. 

Suus  est  et  florum  fructus  ;  quibus  fruimur,  si  non 
utilius,  delicatius  certe.  Neque  etiam  rarum  est  quod 
ad  spem  Veris,  de  se  per  flores  suos  quasi  pollicentis, 
adultioris  anni,  ipsiusque  adeo  Autumni  exigamus  fidem. 
Ignoscas  igitur,  vir  colendissime,  properanti  sub  ora 
Apollinis  sui,  primaeque  adolescentiae  lascivia  exultanti 
Musae.  Tenerae  aetatis  flores  adfert,  non  fructus  serae  : 
quos  quidem  exigere  ad  seram  illam  et  sobriam  maturi- 
tateni,  quam  in  fructibus  expectamus  merito,  durum 
fuerit ;  forsan  et  ipsa  hac  praecoci  importunitate  sua 
placituros  magis :  tibi  praesertim.  quern  paternus  ani 
mus,  quod  fieri  solet,  intentum  tenet  omni  suae  spei 
diluculo,  quo  tibi  de  tuorum  indole  promittas  aliquid. 
Ex  more  etiam  eorum,  qui  in  praemium  laboris  sui  pre- 

1  See  our  Essay  for  notice  of  Lany.  G. 


8  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

tiumque  patientiae  festini,  ex  iis  quae  severunt  ipsi  et 
excoluerunt,  quicquid  est  flosculi  prominulum,  prima 
quasi  verecundia  auras  et  apertum  Jovem  experientis 
arripiunt  avide,  saporemque  illi  non  tarn  ex  ipsius  in- 
dole  et  ingenio  quam  ex  animi  sui  affectu,  foventis  in 
eo  curas  suas  et  spes,  affingunt.  Patere  igitur,  rever- 
ende  custos,  hanc  tibi  ex  istiusmodi  floribus  corollam 
necti;  convivalem  vero:  nee  aliter  passuram  sidus  illud 
oris  tui  auspicatissimum,  nisi,  qua  est  etiam  amoenitate, 
remissiore  radio  cum  se  reclinat,  et  in  tantum  de  se 
demit.  jS"eque  sane  hoc  scrip tionis  genere,  modo  partes 
suas  satis  praestiterit,  quid  esse  potuit  otio  theologico 
accommodatius,  quo  nimirum  res  ipsa  theologica  poetica 
amoenitate  delinita  majestatem  suam  venustate  commen- 
dat.  Hoc  demum  quicquid  est,  amare  tamen  poteris, 
et  voles,  scio :  non  ut  magnum  quid,  non  ut  egregium, 
non  ut  te  dignum  denique,  sed  ut  tuum :  tuum  summo 
jure,  utpote  quod  e  tua  gleba,  per  tuum  radium,  in  ma- 
num  denique  tuam  evocatum  fuerit.  Quod  restat  hujus 
libelli  fatis,  exorandus  es  igitur,  vir  spectatissime,  ut 
quern  sinu  turn  facili  privatum  excepisti,  eum  jam  ore 
magis  pilblico  alloquentem  te  non  asperneris.  Stes  illi 
in  limine,  non  auspicium  modo  suum,  sed  et  argu- 
mentum.  Enimvero  Epigramma  sacrum  tuus  ille  vultus 
vel  est,  vel  quid  sit  docet ;  ubi  nimirum  ainabili  dilui- 
iur  severum,  et  sanctum  suavi  demulcetur.  Pronum 
me  vides  in  negatam  milii  provinciam;  laudum  tuarum, 
intelligo  :  quas  rnih'i  cum  modestia  tua  abstulerit,  re- 


DEDICATIO.  9 

liquum  mihi  est  necessario  ut  sim  brevis ;  imo  vero 
longus  nimium ;  utpote  cui  argumentuni  istud  abscis- 
sum  fuerit,  in  quo  unice  poteram,  et  sine  taedio,  pro- 
lixus  esse.  Vale,  virorum  ornatissime,  neque  dedigneris 
quod  colere  audeam  Genii  tui  serenitatem  supplex  tarn 
tenuis,  et,  quoniam  numen  quoque  hoc  de  se  non  ne- 
gat,  amare  etiam.  Interim,  vero  da  veniam  Musae  in 
tantum  sibi  non  temperanti;  quin  in  hanc  saltern  laudis 
tuae  partem,  quae  tibi  ex  rebus  sacris  apud  nos  ornatis 
meritissima  est,  istiusmodi  carmine  involare  ausa  sit, 
qualicunque  : 

Salve,  alme  custos  Pierii  gregis, 
Per  quern  erudito  exhalat  in  otio  ; 
Seu  frigus  udi  captet  antri, 

Sive  Govern  nitidosque  soles. 

Non  ipse  custos  pulchrior  invias 
Egit  sub  umbras  Aenionios  greges  ; 
Non  ipse  Apollo  notus  illis 
Lege  suae  meliore  cannae. 

Tu,  si  sereno  des  oculo  frui, 
Sunt  rura  nobis,  sunt  juga,  sunt  aquae, 
Sunt  plectra  dulcium  sororum 
(Non  alio  mihi  nota  Phoebo). 

Te  dante,  castos  composuit  sinus ; 
Te  dante,  mores  sumpsit ;  et  in  suo 


10  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Videnda  vultu,  pulveremque 
Eelligio  cineremque  nescit. 

Stat  cincta  digna  fronde  decens  caput : 
Suosque  per  te  fassa  palam  Deos, 
Comisque,  Diva,  vestibusque 
Ingenium  dedit  ordinemque. 

Jamque  ecce  nobis  amplior  es  modo 
Majorque  cerni.     Quale  jubar  tremit 
Sub  os  !  verecundusque  quanta 
Mole  sui  Genius  laborat ! 

Jam  qui  serenas  it  tibi  per  genas, 
Majore  coelo  sidus  habet  suum  ; 
Majorque  circum  cuspidatae 
Ora  comis  tua  flos  diei. 

Stat  causa.     Nempe  hanc  ipse  Deus,  Deus, 
Hanc  ara,  per  te  pulchra,  diem  tibi 
Tuam  refundit,  obvioque 
It  radio  tibi  se  colenti. 

Ecce,  ecce  !  sacro  in  limine,  dum  pio 
^Multumque  prono  poplite  amas  humum, 
Altaria  annuunt  ab  alto  ; 
Et  refluis  tibi  plaudit  alis 

Pulchro  incalescens  officio,  puer 
Quicunque  crispo  sidere  crinium, 
Vultuque  non  fatente  terram, 
Currit  ibi  roseus  satelles. 


DEDICATION.  1 1 

Et  jure.     Nam  cum  fana  tot  inviis 
Moerent  minis,  ipsaque,  ceu  preces 
Manusque  non  decora  supplex 

Tendat,  opem  rogat,  heu  negatain  ! 

Tibi  ipsa  voti  est  ora  sui  rea. 
Et  solvet.     0  quam  semper  apud  Deum 
Litabis  ilium,  cujus  arae 

Ipse  preces  prius  audiisti ! 


[TRANSLATION.     Prose  G. ;  verse  CL.] 

To  the  very  reverend  man  BENJAMIN  LANY,  Doctor  of  Di 
vinity,  most  worthy  Master  of  Pembroke  College  [Cam 
bridge],  the  least  of  the  least  of  those  that  are  his, 
R[ichard]  C\rashaw]  implores  the  divine  protection.1 

Even  flowers  have  their  own  peculiar  fruit,  which 
we  enjoy,  if  not  so  profitably,  yet  in  a  manner  more 
refined.  Nor  is  it  unusual  that,  in  accordance  with 
the  hope  of  Spring,  making  promises  for  herself  as  it 
were  by  her  flowers,  we  demand  credit  for  the  maturer 
year,  and  even  for  Autumn  itself.  Forgive,  then,  most 
Reverend  Sir,  the  Muse  hastening  into  the  presence 
of  her  Apollo,  and  exulting  in  the  wantonness  of  ear 
liest  youth.  She  offers  the  flowers  of  a  tender  age, 
not  the  fruits  of  a  late  one,  which  flowers  indeed  it 

1  See  our  Essay  in  the  present  volume  for  notices  of  Lany.  G. 


12  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

were  unreasonable  to  demand  in  accordance  with  that 
late  and  sober  maturity  which  we  rightly  look  for  in 
fruits — flowers  which  are  more  likely  to  be  pleasing 
from  the  very  fact  of  their  precocious  importunity, — to 
thee  above  all,  whom  a  fatherly  mind,  as  it  is  wont  to 
happen,  holds  watching  for  every  dawning  of  its  hope, 
by  which  you  may  give  yourself  assurance  of  anything 
respecting  the  genius  of  your  sons ;  after  the  manner 
also  of  those  who,  in  haste  for  the  reward  of  their 
labour  and  the  price  of  their  patience,  from  what  they 
have  themselves  sown  and  tended,  snatch  greedily 
whatever  part  may  project  a  little  of  a  floweret,  which, 
as  with  early  bashfulness,  is  making  trial  of  the  airs 
and  the  open  sky,  and  attach  an  odour  to  it,  not  so 
much  from  its  own  nature  and  character  as  from  the 
inclination  of  their  own  mind,  which  fosters  in  it  their 
own  anxieties  and  hopes.  Surfer  then,  Reverend  Mas 
ter,  this  little  garland,  made  of  flowers  of  such  a  sort,  to 
be  bound  on  thee  ;  a  festal  one  assuredly,  and  not  able 
to  endure  that  most  auspicious  star  of  thy  countenance 
in  any  Bother  way  than — for  it  is  even  of  such  a  gra- 
ciousness — when  it  draws  back  with  milder  ray,  and  so 
far  subtracts  from  itself.  Nor  assuredly  than  this  kind 
of  writing,  provided  it  have  sufficiently  discharged  its 
proper  functions,  could  anything  be  more  suitable  to 
theological  leisure;  for  in  it  without  doubt  the  very 
substance  of  theology  being  overlaid  with  poetic  grace, 
sets  off  its  grandeur  by  loveliness.  Finally,  whatever 


DEDICATION.  13 

this  may  be,  you  will  nevertheless,  I  know,  be  able  and 
willing  to  be  lovingly  disposed  towards  it ;  not  as  any 
thing  great  or  uncommon ;  not,  in  short,  as  anything 
worthy  of  you,  but  as  your  own — your  own  by  highest 
right  as  having  been  called  forth  from  your  soil,  by 
your  light,  and,  in  fine,  into  your  hand.  As  for  what 
fortune  awaits  this  little  book,  deign  to  be  persuaded, 
most  worshipful  Sir,  not  to  scorn  when  addressing  you 
now  in  a  more  public  style  him  whom  you  have  wel 
comed  in  private  with  so  ready  an  affection.  May  you 
stand  on  its  threshold,  not  only  as  its  good  omen  but 
also  as  its  subject !  In  very  truth  that  countenance  of 
yours  is  a  Sacred  Epigram,  or  teaches  what  it  should 
be,  where  forsooth  severity  is  tempered  with  love,  and 
sanctity  is  mellowed  by  sweetness.  You  see  me  in 
clined  towards  a  sphere  denied  to  me — that  of  sound 
ing  your  praises,  I  mean;  which  since  your  modesty  has 
taken  from  me,  it  remains  of  necessity  that  I  should  be 
brief :  yes  indeed,  I  am  too  diffuse,  seeing  that  the  very 
subject  is  cut  off  from  me  in  which  alone  I  was,  and 
even  without  irksomeness,  able  to  be  prolix.  Farewell, 
most  cultured  of  men,  and  do  not  disdain  me,  so  insig 
nificant  a  suppliant,  for  daring  to  honour  your  tranquil 
genius,  and,  since  divinity  even  does  not  forbid  this 
respecting  itself,  also  to  love  it.  But  in  the  mean 
while  give  pardon  to  the  Muse,  to  such  a  degree  un 
restrained  as  to  have  dared  for  this  part  at  least  of 
your  praise,  which  is  most  due  to  you  on  account  of 


14  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

sacred  things  that  have  been  honoured  amongst  us,  to 
fly  towards  you  with  a  strain  of  such  kind  as  this, 
whatever  it  may  be  : 

Kind  Guardian  of  the  Muses'  flock, 

Through  whom  it  breathes  in  learn' d  repose, 

Whether  it  choose  the  dripping  rock, 
Or  where  the  open  sunshine  glows. 

"Not  fairer  he  through  trackless  shade 
Who  led  ^Emonia's  flocks  of  old ; 

Not  even  Apollo,  when  he  play'd, 

With  defter  touch  could  charm  the  fold. 

If  thou  the  eye  serene  dost  grant, 

Green  fields  are  ours,  and  streams  and  hills, 
And,  since  no  Phoebus  else  we  want, 

The  Muses  with  their  dulcet  quills. 

Religion  too  with  modest  grace 

Through  thee  assumes  a  gentler  mien ; 

Through  thee  again  can  show  her  face, 
No  more  in  dust  and  ashes  seen. 

4 

Her  brows  crown'd  meetly,  and,  through  thee, 
Her  God  in  sight  of  all  confess'd, 

She  gives  in  her  divinity 

Meaning  and  law  to  garb  and  vest. 

Lo,  while  we  gaze,  an  ample  state 

Adorns  thee ;  what  a  lustrous  sheen 


DEDICATION.  15 

Plays  on  thy  lips  !  with  what  a  weight 
Thy  reverent  Genius  toils  within! 

For  him  on  whom  thy  calm  glance  flows 

His  star  sheds  down  a  fuller  ray; 
The  light  that  o'er  thine  aspect  glows 

Is  brighter  than  the  shafts  of  Day. 

And  there  is  cause.  The  Lord  of  heaven, 
Whose  altar  thou  hast  made  so  fair, 

Pours  back  the  light  that  thou  hast  given, 
With  glory  meets  His  worshipper. 

Lo,  on  the  threshold  of  thy  God 

While  thou  dost  stoop  on  bended  knee, 

The  altar  from  on  high  doth  nod, 

Its  plausive  wings  are  bent  to  thee. 

And,  glowing  with  his  duty's  worth, 

Each  starry-tressed  chorister 
With  look  that  savours  not  of  earth 

Tends  like  a  rosy  cherub  there. 

And  rightly.     For,  when  ruin-wreck'd, 

With  prayers  and  outstretch'd  hands  the  fane 

Bemoan'd  itself  in  all  neglect, 

And  sought  elsewhere  for  help  in  vain, — 

To  thee  by  its  own  vows  'tis  bound, 

And  now  repays  thee.     At  the  shrine 

Whose  cry  so  well  thy  ears  hath  found 

Long,  long  may  prayer  and  praise  be  thine  ! 


LECTORI. 

SALVE.   Jamque  vale.  Quid  enim  quis  pergeret  ultra  1 

Qua  jocus  et  lusus  non  vocat,  ire  voles'? 
Scilicet  hie,  Lector,  cur  noster  habebere,  noil  est ; 

Deliciis  folio  non  faciente  tuis. 
]N"am  iiec  Acidalios  halat  mihi  pagina  rores ; 

Rostra  Cupidineae  nee  favet  aura  faci. 
Frustra  liinc  ille  suis  quicquam  promiserit  alis  : 

Frustra  hinc  ilia  novo  speret  abire  sinu. 
Ille  e  materna  melius  sibi  talia  myrto  j 

Ilia  jugis  melius  poscat  ab  Idaliis. 
Quaerat  ibi  suus  in  quo  cespite  surgat  Adonis, 

Quae  melior  teneris  patria  sit  violis. 
Illinc  totius  Florae,  verisque,  suique 

Consilio,  ille  alas  impleat,  ilia  sinus. 
Me  mea,  casta  taraen,  si  sit  rudis,  herba  coronet : 

Me  mea,  si  rudis  est,  sit  rudis,  herba  juvat. 
Kullji  meo  Circaea  tument  tibi  pocula  versu  : 

Dulcia,  et  in  furias  ofnciosa  tuas. 
Nulla  latet  Lethe,  quam  fraus  tibi  florea  libat, 

Quam  rosa  sub  falsis  dat  malefida  genis. 
Nulla  verecundum  mentitur  mella  venenum : 

Captat  ab  insidiis  linea  nulla  suis. 
Et  spleni,  et  jecori  foliis  bene  parcitur  istis. 

Ah,  male  cum  rebus  staret  utrumque  meis  ! 


LECTORI.  17 

Kara  est  quae  ridet,  nulla  est  quae  pagina  prurit, 

Nulla  salax,  si  quid  norit  habere  salis. 
Non  nudae  Veneres,  nee,  si  jocus,  udus  habetur : 

Non  nimium  Bacchus  noster  Apollo  fuit. 
Nil  cui  quis  putri  sit  detorquendus  ocello ; 

Est  niliil  obliquo  quod  velit  ore  legi. 
Haec  coram  atque  oculis  legeret  Lucretia  justis ; 

Iret  et  illaesis  hinc  pudor  ipse  genis. 
Nam  neque  candidior  voti  venit  aura  pudici 

De  niatutina  virgine  thura  ferens  : 
Cum  vestis  nive  vincta  sinus,  nive  tempora  fulgens, 

Dans  nive  nammeolis  frigida  jura  comis, 
Religiosa  pedum  sensim  vestigia  librans, 

Ante  aras  tandem  constitit,  et  tremuit. 
Nee  gravis  ipsa  suo  sub  numine  castior  halat 

Quae  pia  non  puras  summovet  ara  manus. 
Tarn  Venus  in  nostro  non  est  nimis  aurea  versu  : 

Tarn  non  sunt  pueri  tela  timenda  dei. 
Saepe  puer  dubias  circum  me  moverat  alas, 

Jecit  et  incertas  nostra  sub  ora  faces ; 
Saepe  vel  ipse  sua  calamum  mihi  blandus  ab  ala, 

Vel  matris  cygno  de  meliore  dedit ; 
Saepe  Dionaeae  pactus  mihi  serta  coronae ; 

Saepe  :  Meus  vates  tu,  mihi  dixit,  eris. 
I  procul,  i  cum  matre  tua,  puer  improbe,  dixi : 

Non  tibi  cum  numeris  res  erit  ulla  meis. 
Tu  Veronensi  cum  passere  pulchrior  ibis  : 

Bilbilicisve  queas  cornptius  esse  modis. 

VOL.  II.  C 


18  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Ille  tuos  finget  quocunque  sub  agmine  crines  : 

Undique  nequitiis  par  erit  ille  tuis. 
Ille  nimis,  dixi,  patet  in  tua  proelia  campus  : 

Heu,  nimis  est  vates  et  nimis  ille  tuus ! 
Gleba  ilia,  ah,  tua  quam  tamen  urit  adultera  messis  ! 

Esset  Idumaeo  gerinine  quanta  parens  ! 
Quantus  ibi  et  quantae  premeret  puer  ubera  matris  ! 

Nee  coelos  vultu  dissimulante  sues. 
Ejus  in  isto  oculi  satis  essent  si^era  versu ; 

Sidereo  matris  quam  bene  tuta  sinu ! 
Matris  ut  hie  similes  in  collum  mitteret  ulnas, 

Inque  sinus  niveos  pergeret,  ore  pari ; 
Utque  genis  pueri  haec  aequis  daret  oscula  labris, 

Et  bene  cognatis  iret  in  ora  rosis  ; 
Quae  Mariae  tarn  larga  meat,  quam  disceret  illic 

Uvida  sub  pretio  gemma  tumere  suo  ! 
Staret  ibi  ante  suum  lacrymatrix  Diva  Magistrum  : 

Seu  levis  aura  volet,  seu  gravis  unda  cadat ; 
Luminis  haec  soboles,  et  proles  pyxidis  ilia, 
Pulchrius  unda  cadat,  suavius  aura  volet. 
Quicquid  in  his  sordet  demum,  luceret  in  illis. 

improbe,  nee  satis  est  hunc  tamen  esse  tuum  ? 
Improbe,  cede,  puer :  quid  enim  mea  carmina  mulces  ? 

Carmina  de  jaculis  muta  futura  tuis. 
Cede,  puer,  qua  te  petulantis  fraena  puellae ; 

Turpia  quae  revocant  pensa  procacis  herae ; 
Qua  miseri  male  pulchra  nitent  mendacia  limi ; 
Qua  cerussatae,  furta  decora,  genae ; 


LECTORI.  19 

Qua  mirere  rosas,  alien!  sidera  veris ; 

Quas  nivis  haud  propriae  bruma  redempta  domat. 
Cede,  puer,  dixi  et  dico ;  cede,  improba  mater  : 

Altera  Cypris  liabet  nos ;  habet  alter  Amor. 
Scilicet  hie  Amor  est ;  hie  est  quoque  mater  Amoris. 

Sed  Mater  virgo ;  sed  neque  caecus  Amor. 
0  Puer  !  6  D  online  !  6  magnae  reverentia  Matris, 

Alme  tui  stupor  et  relligio  gremii ! 
0  Amor,  innocuae  cui  sunt  pia  jura  pharetrae, 

Nee  nisi  de  casto  corde  sagitta  calens ! 
Me,  Puer,  6  certa,  quern  figis,  fige  sagitta ; 

0  tua  de  me  sit  facta  pharetra  levis  ! 
Quodque  illinc  sitit  et  bibit,  et  bibit  et  sitit  usque  ; 

Usque  meum  sitiat  pectus,  et  usque  bibat. 
Fige,  Puer,  corda  haec.     Seu  spinis  exiguus  quis, 

Seu  clavi  aut  hastae  cuspide  magnus  ades ; 
Seu  major  cruce  cum  tota ;  seu  maximus  ipso 

Te  corda  haec  figis  denique ;  fige,  Puer. 
0  metam  hanc  tuus  aeternum  inclamaverit  arcus  : 

Stridat  in  hanc  teli  densior  aura  tui. 
O  tibi  si  jaculum  ferat  ala  ferocior  ullum, 

Hanc  habeat  triti  vulneris  ire  viam. 
Quique  tuae  populus  cunque  est,quae  turba,  pharetrae; 

Hie  bene  vulnificas  nidus  habebit  aves. 
0  mini  sis  bello  semper  tarn  saevus  in  isto  ! 

Pectus  in  hoc  nunquam  mitior  hostis  eas. 
Quippe  ego  quam  jaceam  pugna  bene  sparsus  in  ilia  ! 

Quam  bene  sic  lacero  pectore  sanus  ero  ! 


20  EPIGRAMMATA  SA0RA. 

Haec  mea  vota.    Mei  sunt  haec  quoque  vota  libelli. 

Haec  tua  sint,  Lector,  si  meus  esse  voles. 
Si  meus  esse  voles,  meus  ut  sis,  lumina,  Lector, 

Casta,  sed  6  nimium  non  tibi  sicca,  precor. 
Nam  tibi  fac  madidis  meus  ille  occurrerit  alis, 

Sanguine,  seu  lacryma  diffluat  ille  sua  : 
Stipite  totus  hians,  clavisque  reclusus,  et  hasta : 

Fons  tuus  in  fluvios  desidiosus  erit  1 
Si  tibi  sanguineo  meus  hie  tener  iverit  amne, 

Tune  tuas  illi,  dure,  negabis  aquas  1 
Ah  durus  !  quicunque  meos,  nisi  siccus,  amores 

ISTolit,  et  hie  lacrymae  rem  neget  esse  suae. 
Saepe  hie  Magdalinas  vel  aquas  vel  amaverit  undas ; 

Credo  nee  Assyrias  mens  tua  malit  opes. 
Scilicet  ille  tuos  ignis  recalescet  ad  ignes ; 

Forsan  et  ilia  tuis  unda  natabit  aquis. 
Hie  eris  ad  cunas,  et  odoros  funere  manes  : 

Hinc  ignes  nasci  testis,  et  inde  meos. 
Hie  mecum,  et  cum  matre  sua,  mea  gaudia  quaeres  : 

Maturus  Procerum  seu  stupor  esse  velit ; 
Sive  per  antra  sui  lateat,  tune  templa,  sepulchri : 

^ertia  lux  reducem,  lenta  sed  ilia,  dabit. 
Sint  fidae  precor,  ah,  dices,  facilesque  tenebrae ; 

Lux  mea  dum  noctis,  res  nova !  poscit  opem. 
Denique  charta  meo  quicquid  mea  dicat  amori, 

Illi  quo  metuat  cunque,  fleatve,  modo, 
Laeta  parum,  dices,  haec,  sed  neque  dulcia  non  sunt 

Certe  et  amor,  dices,  hujus  amandus  erat. 


LECTORI.  21 

Si  nimium  hie  promitti  tibi  videtur,  Lector  bone, 
pro  eo  cui  satisfaciendo  libellus  iste  futurus  fuerit ;  scias 
me  in  istis  non  ad  haec  modo  spectare  quae  hie  habes, 
sed  ea  etiam  quae  olim,  haec  interim  fovendo,  habere 
poteris.  ^Nolui  enim,  si  hactenus  deesse  amicis  meis 
non  potui,  flagitantibus  a  me,  etiam  cum  dispendii 
sui  periculo,  paterer  eos  experiri  te  in  tantum  favorem 
tuum,  nolui,  inquam,  fastidio  tuo  indulgere.  Satis  hie 
habes  quod  vel  releges  ad  ferulam  suam,  neque  enim 
maturiores  sibi  annos  ex  his  aliqua  vendicant,  vel  ut 
pignus  plurium  adultiorumque  in  sinu  tuo  reponas. 
Elige  tibi  ex  his  utrumvis.  Me  interim  quod  attinet, 
finis  meus  non  fefellit.  Maximum  meae  ambitionis 
scopum  jamdudum  attigi :  tune  nimirum  cum  quale- 
cunque  hoc  meum  pene  infantis  Musae  murmur  ad 
aures  istas  non  ingratum  sonuit,  quibus  neque  doctiores 
mihi  de  publico  timere  habeo,  nee  sperare  clementiores; 
adeo  ut  de  tuo  jam  plausu,  dicam  ingenue  et  breviter, 
neque  securus  sim  ultra  neque  solicitus.  Prius  tui,  quis- 
quis  es,  Lector,  apud  me  reverentia  prohibet ;  de  cujus 
judicio  omnia  possum  magna  sperare :  posterius  illorum 
reverentia  non  sinit,  de  quorum  perspicacitate  maxima 
omnia  non  possum  mihi  non  persuadere.  Quanquam 
6  quam  velim  tanti  me  esse  in  quo  patria  mea  morem 
istum  suum  deponere  velit,  genio  suo  tarn  non  dignum ; 
istum  scilicet  quo,  suis  omnibus  fastiditis,  ea  exoscula- 
tur  unice,  quibus  trajecisse  Alpes  et  de  transmarine  esse, 
in  pretium  cessit!  Sed  relictis  hisce,  nimis  improbae 


22  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

spei  votis,  convertam  me  ad  magistros  acygnianos;  quos 
scio  de  novissimis  meis  verbis,  quanquam  neminem 
nominarim,  iratos  me  reliquisse :  bilem  vero  compon- 
ant ;  et  mihi  se  hoc  debere,  ambitioso  juveni  verbum 
tarn  magnum  ignoscant  —  debere,  inquam,  fateantur : 
quod  nimirum  in  tarn  nobili  argumento,  in  quo  neque 
ad  foetida  de  suis  sanctis  figmenta,  neque  ad  putidas 
de  nostris  calumnias  opus  habeant  confugere,  de  tenui 
hoc  meo  dederim  illorum  magnitudini  unde  emineat. 
Emineat  vero;  serius  dico,  sciantque  me  semper  se 
habituros  esse  sub  ea,  quam  mihi  eorum  lux  major 
affuderit,  umbra,  placidissime  acquiescentem. 


[TEANSLATION.    Verse  and  Prose,  G.] 
To  THE  EEADER. 

(  Greeting,'  Reader;  and  now  ' farewell'! 
Wherefore  should st  thou  on  my  page  dwell, 
Where  neither  jest  nor  sport  inviteth, 
That  the  jocund  youth  delighteth  ? 
Therefore,  Reader,  pass  thee  by 
To  thine  own  idle  jollity : 
The  notes  that  trill  from  my  poor  lute 
Such  as  thee  shall  never  suit ; 
]STor  here  are  Acidalian  dews 
That  Venus'  roses  sweet  suffuse  ; 
Nor  breath  sets  Cupid's  torch  a-blaze 
That  lovers  on  my  lines  may  gaze. 


TQ  THE  READER. 

Vainly  shall  mother  and  shall  son 

Look  here  for  lewd  emotion. 

Cupid,  seek  thy  mother's  kirtle, 

Or  hide  thee  'neath  her  fragrant  myrtle. 

And,  Venus,  thy  Idalian  hills 

Will  better  yield  thee  sport  that  thrills : 

Thither,  therefore,  goddess,  turn; 

O'er  thy  lost  Adonis  burn ; 

Or  devise,  if  grief  thee  frets, 

Other  shrines  for  thy  violets  : 

There,  with  Flora  and  the  Spring 

The  green  earth  enamelling, 

Thou  mayst  fill  thy  bosom's  whiteness, 

He  his  wings  in  all  their  brightness, 

With  all  flow'rs  that  wait  on  thee 

When  thou  boldest  revelry. 

Me  my  own  poor  flow'r  will  crown ; 

Poor  'tis  true,  yet  all  my  own — 

Poor  but  pure.     So  let  it  be, 

Those  unto  others,  this  to  me. 

No  Circe-cup  foams  in  my  verse,  • 

To  make  fierce  lustings  still  more  fierce ; 

No  draft  of  Lethe  here  doth  flow, 

Flow'ry  above,  deathly  below; 

No  false  cheeks,  with  falser  bloom — 

A  rose  up-bursting  from  a  tomb ; 

No  barb  hid  'neath  treach'rous  plume ; 

No  poison  spread  as  honey'd  bait ; 


24  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

No  line  where  danger  lies  in  wait : 
Here's  nor  spleen  nor  melancholy, 
That  for  me  were  unmeet  wholly ; 
Earely  do  I  raise  a  smile, 
Ne'er  merge  my  wit  in  wanton  wile ; 
Never  quicken  Passion's  pulse, 
Nor  show  nude  Beauty  to  convulse, 
Until  beneath  the  hoof  o'  th'  flesh 
The  strong  man  bound  is  in  Lust's  mesh. 
If  jest  I  pass,  do  not  repine 
To  learn  it  reeks  not  of  the  wine ; 
For  my  Apollo  is  celestial, 
.jind  from  Bacchus  shrinks  as  bestial. 
Nothing  that's  foul  my  page  contains ; 
Nothing  the  modest  eye  arraigns ; 
Nothing  to  cause  averted  face  — 
Lucretia  every  line  might  trace 
With  calm,  serene,  unfearing  eye, 
Nor  blush  stain  cheek  of  Modesty. 
For  not  more  pure  the  maiden's  vow1 
Whjsper'd  in  tremulous  words  and  low, 
As,  girt  in  snowy  robe,  her  breast 
Heaves  like  a  wave  in  sweet  unrest, 
And  the  white  veil  shows  whiter  brow 
In  pureness  of  unfallen  snow, 
With  flame-gleam  from  meek-dropped  hair 
DishevelTd  by  the  am'rous  air  : 
1  Perhaps  a  virgin-priestess  being  dedicated  is  intended.  G. 


TO  THE  READER.  25 

Soft  strains  with  her  soft  voice  blending, 

The  marriage-rites  to  heaven  ascending  : 

Yea,  not  the  altar's  self  exhaleth 

More  chastely,  as  its  God  it  haileth, 

That  keeps  far  off  unholy  hands 

While  there  the  priest  with  bow'd  head  stands. 

My  verse  is  not  the  Queen  of  Love's, 

Nor  knows  the  cooing  of  her  doves  : 

Her  beauty  me  not  overpowers, 

Though  bright  as  skies  when  no  cloud  low'rs  ; 

Vainly  at  me  her  tricksy  boy 

His  arrows  shoots.     The  sweet  annoy 

I  never  felt ;  though  oft  and  oft 

He  hover'd  o'er  me,  and  with  soft, 

Sly,  'luring  glances  his  torch  wav'd, 

And  look'd  to  find  me  swift  enslav'd ; 

Offer'd  a  quill  from  his  own  wing, 

E'en  from  his  mother's  swan — to  sing ; 

Ay,  often  Venus'  love-wreaths  weaving, 

On  my  brow  the  symbol  leaving  : 

He  would  laugh,  and  Poet  style  me, 

And  with  flatteries  beguile  me  : 

'  Begone,  begone,  0  wanton  boy ! 

Thy  mother  too,  though  Queen  of  Joy.' 

Thus  did  I  speak.     Naught  of  my  song 

Shall  thy  tyranny  prolong  : 

Get  thee,  with  thy  torch  and  arrow, 

Unto  the  Veronian  sparrow ;  Catullus 


26  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Or  the  Bilbilician  win  Martial 

To  embalm  thy  pleasant  sin  : 

Be  thy  assaults  however  vile, 

He  on  thee  will  smile,  and  smile  : 

He,  thy  love-locks  curious  twining, 

Shall  ne'er  come  short  of  thy  inclining  : 

He  thine  own  poet  is,  and  will 

Give  thee  full  license  to  instill 

By  jest  and  quip  and  jollity 

Whate'er  it  listeth  thee  to  try. 

Alas,  that  genius  so  august 

Should  pander  to  adult'rous  lust ! 

Alas,  that  he,  poet  so  true, 

Should  poet  be,  Cupid,  to  you  ! 

0,  what  harvest  of  rich  thought 

Judean  seed  from  him  had  brought^ 

If,  up-climbing  holy  mountains, 

He  had  drunk  from  hallow'd  fountains  ! 

Mother  and  son,  I  see  them  now, 

As  round  her  neck  his  arms  he'd  throw, 

Ngstling  with  his  azure  eyes, 

Her  bosom's  splendour  for  his  skies ; 

Kissing,  and  kiss'd  in  sweet  reply, 

As  soft  winds  o'er  violets  die  : 

"While  she  all  her  love  discloses, 

Murm'ring  on  his  lips'  twin  roses  : 

His  lips  like  hers,  and  hers  like  his, 

Glued  i'  the  rapture  of  their  bliss. 


TO  THE  READER.  27 

Visions  like  these  would  Martial  give 

With  dainty  touch  and  fugitive. 

The  heav'nly  Weeper  there  would  bow 

Before  her  Lord,  and  pay  her  vow  : 

Now  is  uttered  gentle  sigh, 

And  now  great  tears  gleam  in  her  eye  : 

That,  offspring  of  the  stainless  Light ; 

This,  of  the  Pyx's  mystic  rite  : 

In  his  verse,  tears,  sighs  should  fall 

Delicate  and  musical : 

In  fine,  whate'er  in  mine  were  mean 

Should  radiant  grow  as  sunlight's  sheen. 

Go,  then,  go,  insatiate  boy, 

Nor  me  longer  seek  t'  annoy  : 

I've  said  it,  nor  shall  e'er  unsay  : 

Go  to  thy  mother,  and  there  play. 

Why  wilt  thou  whisper  flattery, 

And  praise  my  Muse's  witchery — 

Verses  that  reck  not  of  thy  smarts — 

And  smite  me  with  thy  fire-tipp'd  darts  1 

Go,  get  thee  gone  !     Thy  haunt  must  be 

Where  there's  wanton  revelry, 

And  the  young  minx  with  toss  o'  curls 

Opes  her  lips  to  show  her  pearls ; 

Opes  her  lips,  with  some  gross  jest 

A  foolish  lover  to  arrest. 

Thither  go,  where  falsely-fair 

Beauty  is  bought  and  sold ;  and  where, 


28  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 


Haunting  with  painted  cheek,  and  eye 
A-flame  to  ev'ry  devilry, 
Base  women  seek  base  men,  and  tingle 
Their  hot  veins  as  they  commingle, 
Baring  their  charms,  'neath  alien  roses 
Ministering  such  sweets  as  Hell  composes. 
Hence,  therefore,  Cupid  !  Venus,  hence  ! 
I  yield  not  to  your  violence  : 
I've  said  it,  nor  shall  you  allure 
My  heart  to  own  your  sway  impure. 
Another  Cypris  holds  me  now, 
Another  Love  receives  my  vow  : 
For  Love  is  here  and  Mother  kind, 
But  she  a  Virgin ;  He  not  blind. 
0  Child  !  0  Lord  !  great  Mother  blest ! 
0  wonder  of  thy  holy  breast ! 
O  Love,  whose  quiver's  sacred  pow'rs 
Ne'er  send  forth  arrow  that  devours, 
Unless  a  shaft  pierce  the  pure  heart, 
That  Thou  mayst  heal  the  blessed  smart. 
Mj,  whom  Thou  piercest,  holy  Child, 
Pierce,  pierce  me  sure  with  arrows  mild. 
Let  Thy  quiver  grow  more  light 
As  Thou  dost  me  yearning  smite  : 
What  my  soul  pants  for,  and  still  drinks 
And  drinks,  and  thirsts,  and  never  thinks 
To  get  enough,  O  give,  still  give. 
Thus  would  I  die ;  thus  would  I  live. 


TO  THE  READER.  29 

Transfix  this  heart,  Child  :  howsoe'er 

Thou  comest, — crown'd  with  thorns  and  bare, 

Or  great  with  the  awful  heraldry 

Of  nail  and  spear  for  Faith  to  see ; 

Or  greater  still,  on  the  holy  rood 

Wet  with  the  terror  of  Thy  Blood ; 

Or  greatest  of  all,  Thyself  alone 

In  meek  might  of  Thy  Passion, — 

Still  pierce  this  heart ;  0  pierce  it,  Child  : 

Thus  would  I  drink  in  rapture  wild. 

0  that  Thy  bow  might  wound  me  still ! 

0  that  of  wounds  I  had  my  fill ! 
Or,  if  some  swifter  wing  there  be, 
That  it  would  fly  to  me — to  me  ! 
Behold,  my  Saviour,  this  poor  breast, 
And  take  it  as  Thine  arrows'  nest : 

1  seek  not  to  be  spar'd  one  blow : 
Thus  would  I  have  Thee  still  my  foe ; 
Still  yearn  that  wounded  I  may  be ; 
For  wounds  like  these  are  ecstasy. 
These  are  my  wishes :  and  my  Books, 
May  they  be  his  who  on  them  looks  ! 
Seek'st,  Eeader,  to  be  mine  ?     Then,  last, 
I  ask  thy  eyes  that  they  be  chaste ; 
Chaste,  but  not  tearless ;  my  dear  Love 
To  meet  and  know,  as  from  above 

He  comes,  and  still  the  Crucified, 
Proclaiming  how  for  man  He  died 


30  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

By  thorn,  and  nail,  and  spear,  and  cry, 

And  bitterest  words  of  agony  : 

Say,  should  He  meet  thee  thus  in  blood, 

Couldst  thou  e'en  grudge  of  tears  a  flood  1 

Ah,  hard  thy  heart  as  e'er  was  stone, 

That  all  unmov'd  can  hear  Him  groan, 

JN"or  by  a  throb  of  feeling  show 

Thou  hast  a  sense  of  His  great  woe ; 

While  here  He  treasured  human  tears 

Hushing  sad  Mary  in  her  fears, 

As  to  His  feet  in  shame  she  crept, 

And  with  white  drops  them  all  bewept : 

More  than  Assyrian  gold  to  thee 

Such  tears,  if  thou  their  worth  couldst  see. 

His  love  with  thine  again  will  glow, 

His  tears  afresh  with  thine  will  flow. 

Here,  Reader,  glancing  through  my  Book, 

Thou  shalt  upon  His  cradle  look  : 

To  His  sweet  obsequies  now  turn, 

And  mark  how  still  my  love  shall  burn. 

Here,  with  His  Mother  and  with  me, 

My  ceaseless  sacred  joys  shalt  see  : 

Whether  Earth's  Princes  speechless  stand 

As  sudden  darkness  wraps  the  land ; 

Or  He  lies  hidden  in  the  Cave, 

A  temple  now,  and  not  a  grave; 

But  the  third  morning  shall  restore  Him  : 

All,  much  too  slow  those  days  pass  o'er  Him ! 


TO  THE  READER.  31 

Be  true,  ye  shadows  of  the  tomb ; 

Enfold  Him  in  a  kindly  gloom : 

Thus  wilt  thou  pray ;  while  my  dear  Light 

(0  strange  !)  demands  the  help  of  Night. 

In  fine,  whate'er  my  Book  shall  say 

To  my  dear  Love — however  pray, 

However  fear,  however  weep, 

And  with  sweet  tears  its  pages  steep — 

My  words  thy  willing  words  will  move. 

*  0,  not  enough  these  things  I  love  ; 

But  they  are  sweet  all  things  above ; 

I  And  certainly  the  love  of  Him 

|  Deserves  all  other  loves  to  dim.' 

If  it  seem  to  you,  good  Eeader,  that  I  have  pro^ 
mised  overmuch  on  behalf  of  him  to  whom  this  tractate 
shall  be  pleasing,  know  that  I  do  not  look  merely  on 
those  things  which  you  possess  here,  but  also  on  those 
which,  by  cherishing  such  as  you  now  have,  you  may 
hereafter  obtain ;  for  I  have  been  unwilling,  if  hitherto 
I  have  not  been  a-wanting  to  my  friends  earnestly  en 
treating  me  that  I  should  allow  them,  even  at  the  risk 
of  their  own  peril,  to  encroach  on  your  good -will, 
however  great — I  have  been  unwilling,  I  say,  to  give 
myself  up  to  your  fastidious  criticism.  You  have  enough 
here  either  to  hand  over  to  the  rod  which  it  deserves 
(for  none  of  these  things  ask  9r  claim  for  themselves 
maturer  years),  or  to  lay  it  up  in  your  bosom  as  a  pledge 


32  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

of  more  and  of  advanced  attempts.  Choose  for  yourself 
an  alternative.  As  for  myself,  my  aim  has  not  deceived 
me.  I  have  already  attained  the  utmost  pinnacle  of  my 
ambition,  at  the  time  when  this  somewhat  indifferent 
murmur  of  my  almost-infantine  Muse  sounded  not  un 
musically  in  those  ears,  than  which  from  the  world  at 
large  I  have  none  more  learned  to  fear,  none  more  in 
dulgent  to  hope  for ;  so  that,  as  regards  your  applause, 
I  will  speak  candidly  and  at  once  :  I  am  neither  over 
confident  nor  over-solicitous  of  it.  Firstly,  my  respect 
for  you,  Reader,  whoever  you  are,  and  of  whose  deci 
sion  I  can  hope  everything,  restrains;  and  next,  my 
respect  for  those  of  whose  penetration  I  am  unable  not 
to  persuade  myself  to  hope  the  greatest  things.  Yet 
still,  how  I  do  wish  that  I  were  of  service  whenever 
my  Country  desires  to  cast  aside  its  own  particular 
custom,  so  unworthy  its  own  worth — that  custom  par 
ticularly  by  which,  all  her  own  things  being  despised, 
she  only  prizes  those  things  to  which  having  crossed 
the  Alps  and  lived  over  the  sea  has  given  a  value ! 
But  these  wishes  of  too  rash  hope  being  put  aside,  let 
me  turn  to  the  acygnian  gentlemen,  whom  I  know — 
although  I  shall  name  none  personally — to  have  angrily 
abandoned  me  on  account  of  some  of  my  recent  sayings. 
Still,  let  them  compose  their  temper,  and  let  them  con 
fess — may  they  pardon  such  a  great  saying  from  a  for 
ward  young  man ! — I  say,  let  them  confess  that  they 
owe  me  this :  that,  in  truth,  in  so  grand  an  argument, 


TO  THE  HEADER.  33 

in  which  they  have  not  recourse  to  the  stale  untruths 
concerning  their  own  services,  nor  to  the  nauseous 
calumnies  concerning  ours.  "With  regard  to  this  slight 
statement  of  mine,  I  have  yielded  to  the  importance  of 
those  from  whence  it  springs.  And  let  it  spring,  for 
sooth  !  I  speak  seriously — and  let  them  know  that 
they  will  always  find  me  most  tranquilly  reposing  under 
that  shadow  which  their  greater  light  has  cast  around 
me ! 


VOL.  II. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 


i. 

Pharisaeus  et  PuUicanus.  Luc.  xviii.  14-19. 
EN  duo  templum  adeunt,  diversis  mentibus  ambo. 

Ille  procul  trepido  lumine  signat  humum  : 
It  gravis  hie,  et  in  alta  ferox  penetralia  tendit. 

Plus  habet  hie  templi  ;  plus  habet  ille  Dei. 

"Avfy>££,  idov,  srspoiffi  voo/£,  dvu  ipov  sffqXQov. 
Tq\6t)£v  o^udsT  KsTvog  6  pp/xaXsog* 
'  6  ftsv  ug  aofiagbg  i/^oD  tAt>%bv  syyvg  txdvzr 
o  Atv  vrjou,  <7rXs?ov  6  3'  zs  Qsov. 


Two  went  up  into  the  Temple  to  pray. 
Two  went  to  pray  !  0,  rather  say, 
One  went  to  brag,  th'  other  to  pray. 
One  stands  up  close,  and  treads  on  high, 
Where  th'  other  dares  not  send  his  eye. 
One  neerer  to  God's  altar  trod  ; 
The  other  to  the  altar's  God.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Two  men  unto  the  Temple  went  to  pray. 
That,  with  a  downcast  look,  stood  far  away; 


36  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

This,  near  the  altar,  himself  highly  bore  : 

This  of  the  Temple,  that  of  God  hath  more.        B. 

II. 

In  asinum  Christi  vectorem.  Matt.  xxi.  7. 
Ille1  suum  didicit  quondam  objurgare  magistrum : 

Et  quid  ni  discas  tu  celebrare  tuum  1 
Mirum  non  minus  est,  te  jam  potuisse  tacere, 

Ilium  quam  fuerat  turn  potuisse  loqui. 

Upon  the  asse  that  bore  our  Saviour. 
Hath  only  Anger  an  omnipotence 

In  eloquence? 
Within  the  lips  of  Love  and  Joy  doth  dwell 

No  miracle  ? 
Why  else  had  Balaam's  asse  a  tongue  to  chide 

His  master's  pride, 
And  thou,  heaven-burthen'd  beast,  hast  ne're  a  word 

To  praise  thy  Lord  ? 
That  he  should  find  a  tongue  and  vocal  thunder 

Was  a  great  wonder ; 
But  0,  methinkes,  'tis  a  farre  greater  one 

4  That  thou  find'st  none.      CB. 

MOKE  CLOSELY. 

The  ass  of  old  had  power  to  chide  its  wilful  lord; 
And  hast  not  thou  the  power  to  speak  one  praiseful  word? 
Not  less  a  marvel,  sure,  this  silence  is  in  thee 
Than  that  the  ass  of  old  to  speak  had  liberty.  G. 

1  Balaam!  asinus.  CR. 


EPJGRAMMATA  SACRA.  37 

III. 

Dominus  apud  suos  vilis.  Luc.  iv.  28-29. 

En  consanguine! !  patriis  en  exul  in  oris 

Christus  !  et  hand  alibi  tarn  peregrinus  erat. 
Qui  socio  demum  pendebat  sanguine  latro, 

0  consanguineus  quam  fuit  ille  magis  ! 

The  Lord  '  despised  and  rejected'  by  His  own  people. 
See,  0  my  kinsmen,  what  strange  thing  is  this ! 
Christ  in's  own  country  a  great  stranger  is. 
The  thief  which  bled  upon  the  Cross  with  Thee 
Was  more  ally'd  in  consanguinity.1  B. 

IV. 

Ad  Bethesdae  piscinam  positus.  Joan.  v.  1-16. 

Quis  novus  hie  refugis  incumbit  Tantalus  undis, 

Quern  fallit  toties  tarn  fugitiva  salus  1 
Unde  hoc  naufragium  felix  medicaeque  procellae, 

Vitaque  tempestas  quam  pretiosa  dedit  1 

The  cripple  at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda. 
What  Tantalus  is  this,  who  health  still  craves 
So  oft,  yet  vainly,  from  the  refluent  waves  1 
And  whence  this  happy  wreck,  this  healing  strife, 
This  storm  that  drifts  its  victim  into  life  ?  CL. 

1  By  a  singular  misprint  Barksdale  thus  reads : 

'  The  thief  which  bless'd  upon  the  Cross  with  Me,'  &c.   G. 


38  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

What  new  Tantalus  is  here, 

Couch'd  by  this  swift-ebbing  wave, 
Whom  the  healing  flood  comes  near, 

Then  retiring  fails  to  save  1 

0,  what  happy  shipwreck  this, 

And  a  cure  by  conflict  wrought ! 
Strange  that  woe  should  thus  win  bliss, 

From  disaster  life  be  brought !  G. 

V. 

Christus  ad  Thomam.  Joan.  xx.  26-29. 

Saera  fides,  voluisse  meos  tractare  dolores  ! 

Crudeles  digiti,  sic  didicisse  Deum  ! 
Yulnera  ne  dubites,  vis  tangere  nostra  :  sed,  eheu, 

Vulnera,  dum  dubitas,  tu  graviora  facis. 

Christ  to  Thomas. 

Harsh  faith,  and  wouldst  thou  probe  these  signs  of  woe? 
0  cruel  fingers,  would  ye  prove  God  so  1 
Touch  them,  lest  thou  shouldst  doubt  ?   Then  have  thy 

4       will; 
But,  ah,  thy  doubting  makes  them  deeper  still.        CL. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

0  cruel  faith,  afresh  my  pangs  to  move  ! 

O  ruthless  fingers,  thus  their  Lord  to  prove  ! 

See,  touch  the  wounds;  doubt  not;  but  with  such  doubt 

Thou  makest  all  those  wounds  afresh  gush  out.       A. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  39 

VI. 

Quisquis  perdiderit  animam  suam  mea  causa  inveniet  earn. 
Matt.  xvi.  25. 

I,  vita,  i,  perdam  :  mihi  mors  tua,  Christe,  reperta  cst : 

Mors  tua  vita  mea  est ;  mors  tibi  vita  mea. 
Aut  ego  te  abscondam  Christi,  mea  vita,  sepulchre : 
Xon  adeo  procul  est  tertius  ille  dies. 
Whosoever  will  lose  his  life  for  My  sake  shall  find  it. 
Away,  my  life  !     Lord  Christ, 

I  have  Thy  death  : 
My  life's  Thy  death,  and  Thy 
death  gives  me  breath. 
But  come,  my  life,  I'll  hide 

thee  in  His  tomb  : 
The  third  day  hence  is  not 

so  long  to  come.  A. 

VII. 

Primo  mane  venit  ad  sepukhrum  Magdalena.  Joan.  xx.  1. 
Tu  matutinos  praevertis,  sancta,  rubores, 

Magdala  ;  sed  jam  turn  Sol  tuus  ortus  erat.1 
Jamque  vetus  merito  vanos  sol  non  agit  ortus, 

Et  tanti  radios  non  putat  esse  suos. 
Quippe  aliquo,  reor,  ille  novus  jam  nictat  in  astro, 

Et  se  nocturna  parvus  habet  facula. 
Quam  velit  6  tantae  vel  nuntius  esse  diei, 

Atque  novus  Soli  Lucifer  ire  novo  ! 

i  Barksdale  thus  renders  the  first  couplet : 
'  Magdalen !  thou  prevent' st  the  morning  light ;     =  anticipatest 
But  thy  Sun  was  already  in  thy  sight.'   G. 


40  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

[Mary]  Magdalene  early,  when  it  was  yet  dafk,  cometh  unto 

the  sepulchre. 
Thou  holy  Magdalene, 

Ere  rosy  morn  was  seen, 
Awokest ;  but  e'en  then 

Thy  Sun  was  in  thy  ken. 
Now  the  great  olden  sun, 

Rising  as  wont  upon 

The  earth,  is  wildered 

With  new  beams  round  him  shed. 
Lo,  as  a  star  he  seems, 

Or  torch  with  nigh-quench'd  beams ; 
Keeping  himself  still  small 
Before  the  Lord  of  All. 
How  well  might' st  thou,  0  Sun, 
Submit  to  be  outshone, 
And,  as  a  morning-star, 

Herald  One  grander  far  !  G. 

VIII. 

Quinque  panes  ad  quinque  hominum  millia.  Joan.  vi.  9. 
En  mensAe  faciles,  redivivaque  vulnera  coenae, 

Quaequc  indefessa  provocat  ora  dape  ! 
Aucta  Ceres  stupet  arcana  se  crescere  messe. 

Denique  quid  restat  1  Pascitur  ipse  cibus. 

On  the  miracle  of  multiply ed  loaves. 
See  here  an  easie  feast  that  knows  no  wound, 

That  under  Hunger's  teeth  will  needs  be  found; 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  41 

A  subtle  harvest  of  unbounded  bread  : 

What  would  ye  more?  Here  Food  itselfe  is  fed.   CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Eas'ly-furnish'd  table  ! 

And  feast  increas'd  by  eating  : 
Still  the  mouth  entreating. 

The  bread  itself,  unable 

To  tell  whence  it  flows, 

Finds  it  most  surely  grows. 

Finds  itself  guest — no  fable  ! 

Whence  is  the  mystic  dower  ? 

From  Him  Who  is  all  power.         G. 

IX. 

jEthiops  lotus.  Act.  viii.  38. 
Hie  niger  sacris  exit,  quam  lautus  !  ab  undis  : 

Nee  frustra  ^Ethiopem  nempe  lavare  fuit. 
Mentem  quam  niveam  piceae  cutis  umbra  fovebit  ? 

Tarn  volet  et  nigros  sancta  Columba  lares. 

On  the  baptized  Ethiopian. 
Let  it  no  longer  be  a  forlorne  hope 

To  wash  an  Ethiope  : 
He's  washt ;  his  gloomy  skin  a  peacefull  shade 

For  his  white  soule  is  made  : 
And  now,  I  doubt  not,  the  Eternall  Dove 

A  black-fac'd  house  will  love.      CR. 


42  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

ANOTHER  VEESION. 

How  fair  this  Ethiop  comes  from  th'  holy  fount ! 

To  wash  a  Black  we  may  not  vain  account. 

How  bright  a  soul  is  in  a  cloudy  skin  ! 

The  Dove  now  loves  a  black  house  to  dwell  in.      B. 

X. 

Publicanus  procul  stans  percutiebat  pectus  suum.  Luc.  xviii.  13. 
Ecce  hie  peccator  timidus  petit  advena  templum  : 

Quodque  audet  solum,  pectora  moesta  ferit. 
Fide  miser ;  pulsaque  fores  has  fortiter  :  illo 

Invenies  templo  tu  propiore  Deum. 

The  publican  standing  afar  off  smote  on  his  breast. 
Lo,  a  sinner,  timid  stranger, 

Stranger  to  the  Lord  our  God, 
Seeks,  in  consciousness  of  danger, 

Where  to  leave  sin's  awful  load. 
He  to  the  Temple  now  is  come, 

Bow'd  in  dread  beside  the  door ; 
His  pallid  lips,  behold,  are  dumb ; 

Hq  smites  his  bosom,  dares  no  more. 
Ah,  distress'd  one,  smite  thee  there 

In  thai  temple,  God  is  near.  G. 

XI. 

[In]  obolum  viduae.  Marc.  xii.  44. 
Gutta  brevis  nummi,  vitae  patrona  senilis, 
E  digitis  stillat  non  dubitantis  anus; 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  43 

Istis  multa  vagi  spumant  de  gurgite  census  : 
Isti  abjecerunt  scilicet;  ilia  dedit. 


y&itbg  dfl"o 

To/i  de  dvaffxipra  KO\I>S  d<ppb$  dvaid'sog  oX/3oy. 
O/  fiev  dweggiwrov   xsTvot,  dldaxe  juovov. 

The  widow's  mites. 

Two  mites,  two  drops — yet  all  her  house  and  land — 
Falle  from  a  steady  heart  though  trembling  hand: 
The  others'  wanton  wealth  foams  high  and  brave. 
The  other  cast  away ;  she  only  gave.  CR. 

XII. 

Maria  vero  assidens  ad  pedes  ejus  audiebat  eum.  Luc.  x.  39. 

Aspice,  namque  novum  est,  ut  ab  hospite  pendeat 
hospes  ! 

Hinc  ori  parat,  hoc  sumit  ab  ore  cibos. 
Tune  epulis  adeo  es,  soror,  officiosa  juvandis, 

Et  sinis  has,  inquit,  Martha,  perire  dapes  ? 

Mary,  which  also  sat  at  Jesus'  feet,  and  heard  His  word. 
Behold,  a  new  thing  here — host  hanging  on  her  Guest ! 
Preparing  for  His  mouth,  His  mouth's  words  are  her 

feast  ! 
0  Martha  sister,  spare  thy  labour  and  thy  cost : 

Tending  the  food  that  perisheth,  diviner  food  is  lost. 

G. 


44  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XIII. 

In  Spiritus  Sancti  descensum.  Act.  ii. 

Ferte  sinus,  o,  ferte  :  cadit  vindemia  coeli, 

Sanctaque  ab  aethereis  volvitur  uva  jugis. 
Felices  nimium,  queis  tarn  "bona  musta  bibuntur ; 

In  quorum  gremium  lucida  pergit  hiems  ! 
En  caput,  en  ut  nectareo  micat  et  micat  astro ; 

Gaudet  et  in  roseis  viva  corona  comis. 
Illis,  6  Superi,  quis  sic  neget  ebrius  esse  1 

111  is,  ne  titubent,  dant  sua  vina  faces. 

The  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Bear,  0  bosoms,  bear  ye  what  Heaven's  vintage  showers, 
Sacred  clusters  pouring  from  ethereal  bowers. 
Too  happy,  surely,  ye  who  drink  of  wine  so  good ; 
It  conies  into  your  bosoms  a  sparkling,  cooling  flood. 
Behold,  with  nectar'd  star  each  head  is  shining,  shining; 
Around  your  purpl'd  locks  a  crown  of  life  entwining. 
0  Spirit  of  all  flesh,  to  drink  who'd  be  denied, 
Since  Thou,  lest  they  should  falter,  mak'st  wine  a  torch 
'    to  guide  ?  G. 


o' 


XIV. 

Congestis  omnibus  peregre  profectus  est.  Luc.  xv.  13. 

Die  mini,  quo  tantos  properas,  puer  auree,  nummos  ? 

Quorsum  festinae  conglomerantur  opes  ? 
Cur  tibi  tota  vagos  ructans  patrimonia  census  ? 

Non  poterunt  siliquae  nempe  minoris  emi  ? 


EPIGBAMMATA  SACRA.  45 


ON  THE  PBODIGALL. 

The  younger  son  gathered  all  together,  and  took  his  journey 
into  afar  country. 

Tell  me,  bright  boy,  tell  me,  my  golden  lad, 
Whither  away  so  frolick  ?  why  so  glad  1 
What  all  thy  wealth  in  counsile  ?  all  thy  state  ? 
Are  husks  so  deare  ?  troth,  'tis  a  mighty  rate.         CR. 

XV. 

Non  solum  vinciri,  sed  et  mori  paratus  sum.  Act.  xxi.  13. 

Non  modo  vinc'la,  sed  et  mortem  tibi,  Christe,  subibo, 

Paulus  ait,  docti  callidus  arte  doli. 
Diceret  hoc  aliter  :  Tibi  non  modo  velle  ligari, 

Christe,  sed  et  solvi1  nempe  paratus  ero. 

I  am  ready  not  to  be  bound  only,  but  to  dye. 
Come  death,  come  bonds,  nor  do  you  shrink,  my  eares, 
At  those  hard  words  man's  cowardize  calls  feares. 
Save  those  of  feare,  no  other  bands  feare  I ; 
Nor  other  death  than  this — the  feare  to  die.         CR. 

:  ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Not  bonds  for  Thee,  Lord,  but  death  too  I'll  brave, 
Says  Paul,  adept  in  double-meanings  grave. 
The  words  meant  more  :  his  wish  was  to  be  bound 
For  Christ ;  but  loosed  too,  and  with  Him  found.    G. 

1  Phil.  i.  23, 


46  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XVI. 

In  Herodem  crK(aXi]K6frp<tTov.  Act.  xii.  23. 

Ille  Deus,  Dens  !  haec  populi  vox  unica:  tantum, 
Vile  genus,  vermes  credere  velle  negant. 

At  cito  se  miseri,  cito  mine  errasse  fatentnr ; 
Games  degustant,  ambrosiamque  putant. 

On  Herod  worshipped  as  a  god,  eaten  of  worms. 
A  god  !  a  god  !  one-mouth'd  the  people  cry; 
Only  the  worms,  vile  tribe,  his  claim  deny. 
Yet  they,  too,  soon  confess  themselves  astray, 
For  in  his  flesh  they  find  ambrosia.  CL. 

XVII. 

Videns  ventum  magnum  timuit,  et  cum  coepisset  demergi, 

clamavit,  &c.  Matt.  xiv. 
Petre,  cades,  6,  si  dubitas :  6,  fide  :  nee  ipsum, 

Petre,  negat  fidis  aequor  habere  fidem. 
Pondere  pressa  suo  subsidunt  caetera  :  selum, 

Petre,  tuae  mergit  te  levitatis  onus.1 

When  he  saw  the  wind  boisterous  he  was  afraid;  and  beginning 

to  sink,  he  cried,  &c. 
Peter !  4doubt,  and  thou  sinkest !  0,  believe ; 

The  sea  will  not  thy  faith,  Peter,  deceive. 
Things  by  their  weight  subside  into  the  wave ; 

Thy  lightness,  Peter,  threats  a  wat'ry  grave.       G. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  latter  couplet : 

'  All  things  subside  by  their  own  weight :  I  think 
Thy  lightness  only,  Peter,  makes  thee  sink.' 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  47 

XVIII. 

Obtulit  eis  pecunias.  Act.  viii.  18. 

Quorsum  hos  hie  nummos  prefers  1  quorsum,  impie  Si 
mon? 

Non  ille  hie  Judas,  sed  tibi  Petrus  adest. 
Vis  emisse  Deum  ?  potius,  precor,  hoc  age,  Simon, 

Si  potes,  ipse  prius  daemona  vende  tuum. 

He  offered  them  money. 

Money !  what  wouldst  thou,  impious  1    Look  and  see, 
'Tis  Peter,  not  Iscariot,  speaks  to  thee. 
Wouldst  thou  buy  God  ?  ^N~ay,  Simon,  change  thy  tone, 
And  try  to  sell  that  demon  of  thine  own.  CL. 

XIX. 

Umbra  S.  Petri  medetur  aegrotis.  Act.  v.  15. 

Convenient  alacres,  sic,  sic  juvat  ire  sub  umbras, 
Atque  umbras  fieri,  creditis  ?  umbra  vetat. 

0  Petri  umbra  potens,  quae  non  miracula  praestat  ? 
Nunc  quoque,  Papa,  tuum  sustinet  ilia  decus. 

The  shadow  of  St.  Peter  heals  the  sick. 
Beneath  that  shadow  they  delight  to  crowd ; 
To  turn  to  shades  by  that  shade  not  allow'd. 
From  Peter's  shadow  what  may  we  not  hope, 
Now  all  thy  glory  it  sustains,  0  Pope  !  G. 


48  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 


XX. 

Tetigit  linguam  ejus,  &c.  .  . ,  et  loquebatur  . .  .  et  praeccpit  illis 
ne  cui  dicerent:  illi  vero  eo  magis  praedicabant.    Marc.  vii. 
33,  36. 
Christe,  jubes  muta  ora  loqui ;  muta  ora  loquuntur : 

Sana  tacere  jubes  ora ;  nee  ilia  tacent. 
Si  digito  tune  usus  eras,  muta  ora  resolvens ; 

Nonne  opus  est  tota  nunc  tibi,  Christe,  manu? 

The  dumbe  healed,  and  the  people  enjoyned  silence. 
Christ  bids  the  dumbe  tongue  speake ;  it  speakes  :  the 

sound 

Hee  charges  to  be  quiet ;  it  runs  round. 
If  in  the  first  He  us'd  His  finger's  touch, 
His  hand's  whole  strength  here  could  not  be  too  much. 

CR. 

ANOTHEK  VEKSION. 

Christ,  the  mute  lips  Thou  bidst  to  speak ;  and  lo, 

Straightway  words  flow: 
Thou  mute  wouldst  have  the  speaking  lips ;  but  they 

Thee  disobey. 
If,  then,  a  single  finger  Thou  didst  use 

Mute  tongues  to  loose, 
Thy  whole  hand  now  we  need ;  for  old  and  young 

Have  ceaseless  tongue.  G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACEA.  49 


XXI. 

Sacerdos  quidam  descendens  eadem  via  vidit,  et  praeteriit. 
Luc.  x.  32. 

Spectasne,  ah,  placidisque  oculis  mea  vulnera  tractas? 

0  dolor !  6  nostris  vulnera  vulneribus  ! 
Pax  oris  quam  torva  tui  est !  quam  triste  serenum  ! 

Tranquillus  miserum  qui  videt,  ipse  facit. 

And  a  certaine  priest  camming  that  way  looked  on  Mm,  and 
passed  by. 

Why  dost  thou  wound  my  wounds,  0  thou  that  passest 

by, 

Handling  and  turning  them  with  an  un wounded  eye  1 
The  calm  that  cools  thine  eye  does  shipwrack  mine; 

for  0, 
Unmov'd  to  see  one  wretched  is  to  make  him  so.    »CR. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

Dost  look  upon  my  wounds,  serene-faced  Priest  ? 

Thy  placid  eyes  give  wounds  more  deep  and  sore. 
0,  thy  calm  stare  avert !  pass  on,  at  least : 

They  who  see  woe  unmov'd  cause  it,  and  more.    G. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Canst  look,  and  by  with  look  so  tranquil  pass, 
Nor  heed  my  wounds  ?    0,  wounds  on  wounds,  alas  ! 
0  peace,  too  grim  !  on  it  set  little  store  : 
Who  looks  unmov'd  on  misery  makes  it  more.  A. 

VOL.  IT.  e 


50  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 


XXII. 

Leprosi  ingrati.  Luc.  xvii. 

Dura  linquunt  Christum,  ah  morbus  !  sanantur  euntes 

Ipse  etiam  morbus  sic  medicina  fuit. 
At  sani  Christum,  mens  ah  male-sana  !  relinquunt : 

Ipsa  etiam  morbus  sic  medicina  fuit. 

The  ungrateful  lepers. 

Whilst  leaving  Christ — ah,  fell  disease  ! — 

They're  healed  as  they  go  : 
Their  malady  their  medicine  is, 

Because  He  will'd  it  so. 
But  healed  now — ah,  mind  diseas'd! — 

They  from  the  Lord  depart : 
Their  healing  their  disease  is  now, 

Bred  in  an  ingrate  heart.  G. 


XXIII. 

Ne  soliciti  estate  tu  crastlnum.  Matt.  vi.  34. 

I,  miser,  inque  tuas  rape  non  tua  tempora  curas  : 
Et  nondum  natis  perge  perire  malis. 

Mi  querulis  satis  una  dies,  satis  angitur  horis : 
Una  dies  lacrymis  mi  satis  uda  suis. 

mihi  ventures  vacat  expectare  dolores  : 
Kolo  ego,  nolo  hodie  crastinus  esse  miser. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  51 

Be  ye  not  fretted  about  to-morrow. 

Go,  wretched  mortal,  antedate  the  day, 

Fill  thee  with  care ; 
Work  thyself  mis'ries,  in  a  perverse  way, 

Before  they're  there. 
Enough  for  me  the  day's  cares  in  the  day, 

The  passing  hour ; 
Enough  the  tears  that  daily,  yea  or  nay, 

In  sorrow  low'r. 
I  have  no  leisure  thus  to  antedate 

The  coming  woe, 
Nor  to-day  darken  with  to-morrow's  fate ; 

And  so  I  go.  G. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Wretch,  to  thy  woes  add  not 

to-morrow  morn ; 
And  haste  not  thou  to 

groan  with  ills  unborn. 
Each  day's  laments,  each 

hour's  griefs,  me  suffice ; 
Each  morn,  noon,  eve,  with 

rueful  weeping  eyes. 
No  leisure  is  to  look  for 

griefs  to  be : 
Stir  not  to-day  to-morrow's 

pains  in  me.  A. 


52  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XXIV. 

A  telonio  Matthaeus.  Matt.  ix.  9. 

Ah  satis,  ah  mmis  est :  noli  ultra  ferre  magistrum, 

Et  lucro  domino  turpia  colla  dare. 
Jam  fuge ;  jam,  Matthaee,  feri  fuge  regna  tyranni : 

Inque  bonam,  felix  i  fugitive,1  crucem. 

Matthew  called  from  the  receipt  of  custom. 
Enough,  too  much ;  no  more  a  master's  yoke 
Endure,  nor  how  to  lordly  Lucre's  stroke  : 
His  service  from  thy  slavish  neck  is  broke. 

Elee,  Matthew,  flee  the  cruel  tyrant's  sway, 

And  hie  thee,  like  a  happy  runaway, 

To  the  sweet  cross  that  waits  for  thee  to-day.     K.Wi. 

XXV. 

Viduae  filius  e  feretro  matri  redditur.  Luc.  vii.  15. 

En  redeunt,  lacrymasque  breves  nova  gaudia  pensant ; 

Bisque  ilia  est,  uno  in  pignore,  facta  parens. 
Felix  o/iae  magis  es  nati  per  funera  mater  : 

Amisisse,  iterum  cui  peperisse  fuit. 

The  dead  son  re-delivered  to  his  mother. 
Sweet  restoration  !  by  new  joys  outweigh'd, 
Brief  sorrow  is  exil'd, 

1  Christ!  scilicet.   C.     [The  reference  is  to  a  runaway  slave, 
whose  punishment  would  be  crucifixion.  G.] 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  53 

And  the  lorn  widow  is  a  mother  made 
Twice  in  her  only  child. 

0  happy  mother  !  then  a  mother  most 

When  all  her  hopes  seem'd  vain  : 
Happy,  who  wept  beside  a  dear  son  lost, 

And  found  him  born  again.  CL. 

XXVI. 

Bonum  intrare  in  coelos  cum  uno  oculo,  <&c.  Matt,  xviii.  9. 
Uno  oculo  1  ah  centum  potius  mihi,  millia  centum : 

Nam  quis  ibi,  in  coelo,  quis  satis  Argus  erit  ? 
Aut  si  oculus  mihi  tantum  unus  conceditur,  unus 

Iste  oculus  fiam  totus  et  omnis  ego. 

It  is  better  to  go  into  heaven  with  one  eye,  (&c. 
One  eye  ?  a  thousand  rather,  and  a  thousand  more, 
To  fix  those  full-fac't  glories.     0,  he's  poore 
Of  eyes  that  has  but  Argus'  store  ! 
Yet,  if  thou'lt  fill  one  poore  eye  with  Thy  Heaven  and 

Thee, 

0  grant,  sweet  Goodnesse,  that  one  eye  may  be 
All  and  every  whit  of  me.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

With  one  eye !    Ah  !  but  rather  to  me  give 
A  hundred  or  a  hundred-thousand,  Lord. 

All  Argus'  eyes  were  no  superlative 

To  view  the  glories  Thy  three  heavens  afford. 


54  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Or,  0  my  God,  if  unto  those  who  die, 

It  be  Thy  will  only  to  give  one  eye, 

Grant  my  whole  body  that  one  eye  to  be, 

That  thus  I  may  forever  gaze  on  Thee.  G. 


XXVII. 

Hydropicus  sanatur.  Luc.  xiv.  2-4. 

Ipse  suum  pelagus,  morboque  immersus  aquoso 
Qui  fuit,  ut  laetus  nunc  micat  atque  levis  : 

Quippe  in  vina  iterum  Christus,  puto,  transtulit 

undas ; 
Et  nunc  iste  suis  ebrius  est  ab  aquis. 

Himself  is  his  own  sea ; 
Dropsy  his  malady 
In  sad  severity. 

Eut  Christ  the  Lord  he  sees, 
Who  touching  him  him  frees ; 
Now  joyous  and  at  ease. 

Again,  as  I  opine, 

The  Lord  transmutes  to  wine 

By  miracle  divine ; 

And  now,  still  more  and  more, 

His  own  wine-water  store 

Pours  mirth  at  ev'ry  pore.  G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  55 

XXVIII. 

Non  erat  Us  in  diversorio  locus.  Luc.  ii.  7. 

Illi  non  locus  est  1    Ilium  ergo  pellitis  ?    Ilium  ? 

Ille  Deus,  quern  sic  pellitis ;  ille  Deus. 
0  furor  !  humani  miracula  saeva  furoris  ! 

Illi  non  locus  est,  quo  sine  nee  locus  est. 

There  was  no  room  for  them  in  the  inn. 
No  place  for  Him  !    So  Him  you  drive  away ; 
You  drive  away  your  God,  your  God.    0,  stay ! 
O  height  of  human  madness  !  wonders  rare  ! 
No  place  for  Him  !  without  Whom  no  place  were.     G. 

XXIX. 

In  lacrymas  Lazari  spretas  a  Divite.  Luc.  xvi. 

Felix,  6,  lacrymis,  6  Lazare,  ditior  istis, 

Quam  qui  purpureas  it  gravis  inter  opes  : 

Ilium  cum  rutili  nova  purpura  vestiet  ignis, 
Ille  tuas  lacrymas  quam  volet  esse  suas. 

Upon  Lazarus  his  teares. 
Rich  Lazarus,  richer  in  those  gems,  thy  teares, 

Than  Dives  in  the  roabes  he  weares : 
He  scornes  them  now ;  but,  0,  they'l  suit  full  well 

With  th'  purple  he  must  weare  in  Hell !  CR. 

ANOTHEB  KENDEEINQ. 

0  happy  Lazarus  !  richer  in  thy  tears 
Than  he  who  midst  his  riches  purple  wears. 
Hell's  purple  flames  red-glowing  shall  be  his  : 
Ah,  then  how  shall  he  count  thy  tears  a  bliss  ! 


56  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XXX. 

Indignatur  Caiplias  Christo  se  confitenti.  Matt.  xxvi.  65. 
Tu  Christum,  Christum  quod  non  negat  esse  lacessis : 

Ipsius  hoc  crimen,  quod  fuit  ipse,  fuit. 
Tene  Sacerdotem  credam  1  'Novas,  ille  Sacerdos 

Per  quern  impune  Deo  non  licet  esse  Deum. 

Caiplias  angry  that  Christ  confesses  He  is  the  Christ. 
Wroth  that  The  Christ  confesseth  Christ  He  is  ! 
His  fault  that  He  is  but  Himself,  I  wis. 
Thee  shall  I  reckon  priest  ?    Strange  priest  is  he 
Who  leaves  not  God  His  own  Divinity  !  G. 

XXXI. 

Cum  tot  signa  edidisset,  non  credebant  in  eum.  Joan.  xii.  37. 
Is  on  tibi,  Christe,  fidem  tua  tot  miracula  praestant ; 

0  verbi,  6  dextrae  dulcia  regna  tuae  ! 

Non  praestant  ?  neque  te  post  tot  miracula  credunt  ? 
Mirac'lum  qui  non  credidit,  ipse  fuit.1 

But  though  He  had  done  so  many  miracles  before  them,  yet 
4  they  believed  not  on  Him. 

For  all  Thy  signs  they  still  refuse  Thee,  Lord ; 
Those  signs,  blest  symbols  of  Thy  reign  and  word. 
Such  signs,  and  not  believe  1  Sure,  who  did  thus 
Made  unbelief  itself  miraculous.  CL. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  latter  couplet : 

'  After  so  many  miracles  done  well, 
He  that  believes  not  is  a  miracle.' 


EPIGEAMMATA  SACRA.  57 


XXXII. 

Ad  S.Andreampiscatorem.  Marc.  i.  16. 

Quippe  potes  pulchre  captare  et  fallere  pisces ; 

Centum  illic  discis  lubricus  ire  dolis. 
Hens,  bone  piscator  !  tendit  sua  retia  Christus  : 

Artem  inverte,  et  jam  tu  quoque  disce  capi. 

To  S.  Andrew,  fisherman. 

How  cleverly  the  fishes  he  beguiles ! 

He  learns  to  use  a  hundred  cunning  wiles. 

Ho,  thou  good  Fisher  :  Christ  casts  out  His  net ; 

Now  haste  thou  to  be  caught ;  for  thee  'tis  set.        G. 

XXXIII. 

Ego  sum  vox,  &c.  Joan.  i.  23. 

Vox  ego  sum,  dicis  :  tu  vox  es,  sancte  Joannes  1 
Si  vox  es^  genitor  cur  tibi  mutus  erat  1 

Tsta  tui  fuerant  quam  mira  silentia  patris  ! 

Vocem  non  habuit  tune  quoque  cum  genuit. 

I  am  the  voice. 

1 1  am  the  voice,'  thou  sayest.     Thou  holy  John, 
If  voice  thou  art,  why  was  thy  father  dumb  1 

0  silence  strange  !  which  as  I  muse  upon, 

I  see  thy  voice  from  God,  not  man,  did  come.       G. 


58  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XXXIV. 

Vincula  sponte  decidunt.  Act.  xii.  7. 
Qui  ferro  Petmm  cumulas,  durissime  custos, 

A  ferro  disces  mollior  esse  tuo. 
Ecce  fluit,  nodisque  suis  evolvitur  ultro  : 

I,  fatue,  et  vinc'lis  vincula  pone  tuis. 

The  chains  spontaneously  fall  off. 
Who  loadest  him  with  chains,  thou  jailer  stern, 
To  be  more  kind  e'en  from  those  chains  shalt  learn. 
Lo,  they  dissolve,  and  their  own  knots  untie. 
Go,  fool,  and  chains  with  chains  to  fetter  try.         G. 

XXXV. 

IN  DIEM  OMNIUM  SANCTORUM. 

Ne  laedite  terrain,  neque  mare,  neque  arbores,  quousque  obsigna- 
verimus  servos  Dei  nostri  in  frontibus  suis.  Rev.  vii.  3. 

Nusquam  immitis  agat  ventus  sua  rnurmura,  nusquam 

Sylva  tremat,  crispis  sollicitata  comis. 
Aequa  Thetis  placide  allabens  ferat  oscula  Terrae ; 

Terra  suos  Thetidi  pandat  arnica  sinus  : 
Undiqrie  pax  effusa  piis  volet  aurea  pennis, 

Frons  bona  dum  signo  est  quaeque  notata  suo. 
Ah,  quid  in  hoc  opus  est  signis  aliunde  petendis  ? 

Frons  bona  sat  lacrymis  quaeque  notata  suis. 

On  All-Saints'  Day. 

Let  wind  with  murmurs  harsh  nowhere  be  heard ; 
Nowhere  wood  tremble,  its  curl'd  tresses  stirr'd. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  59 

Calm-flowing  Sea  greet  Earth  with  kisses  bland, 
Earth  unto  Sea  its  bosom  kind  expand. 
Let  holy  Peace  on  golden  pinions  steal, 
Till  each  blest  brow  is  mark'd  with  its  own  seal. 
Ah,  why  elsewhere  for  this,  need  signs  be  sought  ? 
To  each  blest  brow  tears  seal  enough  have  brought. 

E.  Wi. 

XXXVI. 

In  die  Conjurationis  sulphureae. 

Quam  bene  dispositis  annus  dat  currere  festis  ! 
Post  omnes  Sanctos  omne  scelus  sequitur. 

Upon  the  Powder-day. 

How  fit  our  well-rank'd  Feasts  do  follow  ! 
All-niischiefe  comes  after  All-Hallow.1  CR. 

XXXVII. 
Deus  sub  utero  Virginia.  Luc.  i.  31. 

Ecce  tuus,  Natura,  pater;  pater  hie  tuus  hie  est: 

Hie,  uterus  matris  quern  tenet,  ille  pater. 
Pellibus  exiguis  arctatur  Films  ingens, 

Quern  tu  non  totum,  crede,  nee  ipsa  capis. 
Quanta  uteri,  Eegina,  tui  reverentia  tecum  est, 

Bum  jacet  hie  coelo  sub  breviore  Deus  ! 
Conscia  divino  gliscunt  praecordia  motu, 

ISTec  vehit  aethereos  sanctior  aura  polos. 

1  Query  :  Is  there  a  punning-play  on  Judas'  '  All  Hail'  (i.e. 
All  Hallow)  before  the  Betrayal?     (*. 


60  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Quam  bene  sub  tecto  tibi  concipiuntur  eodem 

Vota,  et,  vota  cui  concipienda,  Deus  ! 
Quod  nubes  alia,  et  tanti  super  atria  coeli 

Quaerunt,  invenient  hoc  tua  vota  domi. 
0  felix  anima  haec,  quae  tarn  sua  gaudia  tangit ! 

Sub  conclave  suo  cui  suns  ignis  adest. 
Corpus  amet,  licet,  ilia  suum,  neque  sidera  malit : 

Quod  vinc'lum  est  aliis,  hoc  habet  ilia  domum. 
Sola  jaces,  neque  sola  ;  toro  quocunque  recumbis, 

Illo  estis  positi  tuque  tuusque  toro. 
Immo  ubi  casta  tuo  posita  es  cum  conjuge  conjunx ; 

Quod  mirum  magis  est,  .es  tuns  ipsa  torus. 

God  in  the  Virgin's  womb. 

Thy  Father,  Nature,  here  thy  Father  see  : 
Whom  womb  of  mother  holds,  thy  Father  He. 
Scant  teguments  the  mighty  Son  enchain, 
Whom  thou  thyself  not  wholly  dost  contain. 
What  reverence,  Queen,  to  thine  own  womb  is  given, 
While  God  lies  here  beneath  a  lesser  heaven  ! 
With  sabred  motion  swells  her  conscious  breast ; 
Nor  are  the  poles  upborne  by  airs  more  blest. 
'Neath  the  same  roof  are  well  conceiv'd  by  thee 
Vows,  and  the  God  to  whom  vows  offer'd  be. 
What  other  prayers  o'er  clouds  and  sky's  vast  bound 
Seek,  by  thy  prayers  this  will  at  home  be  found. 
Blest  soul,  so  nigh  to  thy  supreme  desire, 
To  which  'neath  its  own  shrine  dwells  its  own  fire. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  61 

She  may  her  body  love,  nor  heaven  prefer : 
What  chains  down  others  is  a  home  to  her. 
Lone,  yet  not  lone,  where'er  thou  dost  recline ; 
On  that  same  couch  are  laid  both  thou  and  thine. 
Nay,  when  with  thy  chaste  spouse,  chaste  wife  thou'rt 

laid— 

More  strange,  thyself  thine  own  blest  couch  art  made. 

E.Wi. 

XXXVIII. 

Ad  Judaeos  mactatores  Stepliani.  Act.  vii.  59. 

Frustra  ilium  increpitant,  frustra  vaga  saxa :  nee  illi 
Grandinis,  heu,  saevae  !  dura  procella  nocet. 

Ista  potest  tolerare,  potest  nescire ;  sed  illi, 
Quae  sunt  in  vestro  pectore,  saxa  nocent. 

To  the  Jews,  murderers  of  St.  Stephen. 

Vainly  ye  cast  stones,  Jews ;  they  give  no  shock  : 
Shower  as  the  hail-storm,  it  is  all  in  vain. 

These  he  shall  bear,  and  heed  not :  'tis  the  rock 

Of  your  obdurate  hearts  that  gives  him  pain.      G. 

XXXIX. 

D.  Joannes  in  exilio.   Rev.  i.  9. 

Exul,  amor  Christi  est :  Christum  tamen  invenit  exul : 

Et  solitos  illic  invenit  ille  sinus. 
Ah,  longo,  aeterno  ah  terras  indicite  nobis 

Exilio,  Christi  si  sinus  exilium  est. 


62  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

St.  John  in  exile. 
Love  to  Christ  an  exile  is, 

Yet  the  exile  findeth  Christ ; 
All  the  dear  familiar  bliss, 

And  the  bosom-joys  unpric'd. 
Ah,  Lord,  exile  long  to  us, 

Never-ending  e'en  be  sent, 
If  we  find  Christ's  bosom  thus 

As  our  place  of  banishment.  G. 

XL. 

Ad  infantes  martyres.  Matt.  ii.  16. 

Fundite  ridentes  animas,  effundite  coelo ; 

Discet  ibi  vestra,  6  quam  bene  !  lingua  loqui. 
Nee  vos  lac  vestrum  et  maternos  quaerite  fontes  : 

Quae  vos  expectat  lactea  tota  via  est. 

To  the  infant  martyrs. 

Go,  .smiling  soules,  your  new-built  cages  breake, 
-A  In  Heav'n  you'l  learne  to  sing  ere  here  to  speake  : 
Nor  let  the  milky  fonts  that  bath  your  thirst 

Bee  your  delay ; 
The  plaote  that  calls  you  hence  is,  at  the  worst, 

Milke  all  the  way.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Depart,  ye  smiling  souls,  to  Heaven  depart : 

Your  tongues  may  there  learn  best  the  speaking  art. 

Stay  not  to  suck,  sweet  children,  do  not  stay : 

Cry  not ;  for  you  shall  go  the  milky  way.  B. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  63 

XLI. 

Quaerit  Jesum  suum  beata  Virgo.   Luc.  ii.  45. 
Ah,  redeas  miserae,  redeas,  puer  alme,  parent! ; 

Ah,  neque  te  coelis  tain  cito  redde  tuis. 
Coelura  nostra  tuum  fuerint,  6,  brachia,  si  te 

Nostra  suum  potemnt  brachia  ferre  Deum. 

The  blessed  Virgin  seeks  Jesus. 
Ah,  to  Thy  mother,  ah,  return, 

my  fair,  beloved  Son ; 
Return  not  to  Thy  native  skies, 

my  heaven-descended  One. 
Thy  mother's  arms  Thy  heaven  would  be, 

enfolding  Thee  around ; 
If  thus  within  these  innocent  arms 

the  great  God  might  be  found.1       G. 

XLII. 

Non  sum  dignus  ut  sub  tecta  mea  venias.    Matt.  viii.  8. 
In  tua  tecta  Deus  veniet :  tuus  haud  sinit  illud 

Et  pudor  atque  humili  in  pectore  celsa  fides. 
Hlum  ergo  accipies,  quoniam  non  accipis  :  ergo 

In  te  jam  veniet,  non  tua  tecta  Deus.2 

1  Cf.  Crashaw's  own  hitherto  unpublished  poem,  amplifying 
the  epigram,  in  '  Airelles,'  vol.  i.  pp.  185-6.     G. 

2  Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  closing  couplet : 

'  Thou  receiv'st  and  receiv'st  nojt  Christ;  for  He 
Comes  not  into  thy  house,  hut  into  thee.' 


64  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

I  am  not  worthy  that  Thou  shouldst  come  under  my  roofe. 
Thy  God  was  making  hast  into  thy  roofe ; 
Thy  humble  faith  and  feare  keepes  him  aloofe. 
Hee'll  be  thy  guest,  because  He  may  not  be ; 
Hee'll  come — into  thy  house  1  No,  into  thee.        CR. 

XLIII. 

Christus  accusatus  nihil  respondet.   Matt,  xxvii.  12. 

Nil  ait :  6  sanctae  pretiosa  silentia  linguae! 

Ponderis  6  quanti  res  nihil  illud  erat! 
Hie  olim  verbum  qui  dixit,  et  omnia  fecit, 

Verbum  non  dicens  omnia  nunc  reficit. 

And  He  answered  them  nothing. 
0  mighty  Nothing  !  unto  thee, 
Nothing,  wee  owe  all  things  that  bee. 
God  spake  once  when  Hee  all  things  made, 
Hee  sav'd  all  when  Hee  Nothing  said. 
The  world  was  made  of  Nothing  then ; 
'Tis  ma^de  by  Nothing  now  againe.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

*  Nothing  He  said.' 

0  precious  silence  of  that  sacred  tongue  ! 

0  what  vast  interests  on  that  Nothing  hung ! 

He  who  once  spoke  the  word,  and  all  things  made, 

Now  re-makes  all,  when  not  a  word  is  said.  G. 


BPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  65 

XLIV. 

Nunc  dimittis.   Luc.  ii.  29. 
Spesne  meas  tandem  ergo  mei  teimere  lacerti  1 

Ergo  bibunt  oculos  lumina  nostra  tuos  ? 
Ergo  bibant :  possintque  novam  sperare  juventam  : 

0  possint  senii  non  meminisse  sui ! 
Immo  mihi  potius  mitem  mors  induat  umbram, 

Esse  sub  his  oculis  si  tamen  umbra  potest. 
Ah,  satis  est.     Ego  te  vidi,  puer  auree,  vidi : 
Nil  post  te,  nisi  te,  Christe,  videre  volo.1 

Noiv  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in  peace. 
And  is  my  hope  grasp'd  in  these  arms  of  mine 
At  last,  and  do  these  eyes  drink  light  from  Thine  ? 
There  let  them  drink  with  a  new  youth  in  store, 
And  feel  the  dimming  touch  of  age  no  more. 
Nay  rather,  if  Thine  eyes  can  give  it  room, 
Let  Death's  soft  shadow  gently  o'er  them  come. 
Thee  have  I  seen,  0  Child  :  enough  for  me  : 
I  care  not  to  behold  aught  else  but  Thee.  CL. 

XLV. 

Verbum  inter  spinas.  Luc.  viii.  7. 
Saepe  Dei  verbum  sentes  cadit  inter,  et  atrum 

Miscet  spina  procax,  ah,  male  juncta  !  latus. 
Credo  quidem  :  nam  sic  spinas,  ah,  scilicet  inter 

Ipse  Deus  verbum  tu  quoque,  Christe,  cadis. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  translates  the  last  couplet  thus : 

*  Enough !  I  have  seen,  have  seen  my  Saviour : 
Beside  Thee,  Christ,  I  would  see  nothing  more.' 

VOL.  II.  f 


66  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

The  Word  among  thorns. 
Often  and  often  *  good  words'  fall 
Where  thorns  and  briars  rankly  crawl ; 
Their  spines  lay  hold,  and  choke,  and  pierce — 
Like  to  wild  beast  in  hunger  fierce. 
I  know  it :  for  like  flash  of  sword 
I  read  'twas  so  with  Thee  THE  WORD  : 
God,  e'en  my  God,  Thou  wast  in  truth  \ 
But  fell'st  'mong  thorns,  which  show'd  no  ruth.     G. 

XL  VI. 

Sabbatum  Judaicum  et  Christianum.   Luc.  xiv.  5. 
Res  eadem  vario  quantum  distinguitur  usu : 

Nostra  hominem  servant  sabbata,  vestra  bovem. 
Observent  igitur,  pacto  quid  justius  isto  ? 

Sabbata  nostra  homines,  sabbata  vestra  boves. 

The  Judaic  and  Christian  Sabbath. 
How  diff 'rent  grows  a  thing  through  diff  rent  use ! 
Our  Sabbaths  serve  men,  yours  give  oxen  truce. 
Be  this  agreed — arrangement  fitter  none — 
Our  Sabbath  men  keep,  yours  oxen  alone.  G. 

4  XLVII. 

Ad  verbiim  Dei  sanatur  caecus.    Marc.  x.  52. 

Christe,  loquutus  eras,  6  sacra  licentia  verbi : 
Jamque  novus  caeci  fluxit  in  ora  dies. 

Jam  credo,  Nemo1  est,  sicut  Tu,  Christe,  loquutus : 
Auribus  ?  immo  oculis,  Christe,  loquutus  eras. 
1  Joan.  vii.  46. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  67 

The  blind  cured  by  the  word  of  our  Saviour. 
Thou  spak'st  the  word — Thy  word's  a  law ; 
Thou  spak'st,  and  straight  the  blind  man  saw. 
To  speak  and  make  the  blind  to  see, 
Was  never  man,  Lord,  spake  like  Thee. 
To  speak  thus  was  to  speak,  say  I, 
Not  to  his  eare,  but  to  his  eye.  CR. 

XLVIII. 

Onus  meum  leve  est.   Matt.  xi.  30. 

Esse  levis  quicunque  voles,  onus  accipe  Christi : 
Ala  tuis  humeris,  non  onus,  illud  erit. 

Christi  onus  an  quaeris  quani  sit  grave  ?  scilicet  audi, 
Tarn  grave,  ut  ad  summos  te  premat  usque  polos. 

My  burden  is  light. 
Askest  how  thou  may'st  lightly  loaded  be  ? 

Christ's  burden  take  from  me  : 
A  wing  to  lift,  no  load  to  press  thee  down, 

Thou  it  wilt  feel  and  own. 
Dost  ask  how  heavy  may  Christ's  burden  be  ? 

Then  list,  0  man,  to  me  : 
So  heavy,  that  whoe'er  'neath  it  enrolls, 

It  lifts  to  the  highest  poles.  G. 

XLIX. 

Miraculum  quinque  panum.  Joan.  vi.  1-13. 

Ecce,  vagi  venit  unda  cibi;  venit  indole  sacra 
Fortis,  et  in  dentes  fertilis  innumeros. 


68  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Quando  erat  invictae  tarn  sancta  licentia  coenae  1 
Ilia  famem  populi  poscit,  et  ilia  fidem. 

On  the  miracle  of  loaves. 

Now,  Lord,  or  never,  they'l  beleeve  on  Thee  ; 
Thou  to  their  teeth  hast  prov'd  Thy  deity.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

See,  loaves  in  heaps,  blest  growth,  spread  far  and  wide, 

For  mouths  innumerable  multiplied. 

Feast  holy,  free,  invincible  like  this, 

Claims  the  crowd's  hunger,  and  their  faith,  I  wis.  E.  Wi. 

L. 

Nunc  scimus  te  habere  daemonium.   Joan.  viii.  52. 

Aut  Deus,  aut  saltern  daemon  tibi  notior  esset, 
Gens  mala,  quae  dicis  daemona  habere  Deum. 

Ignorasse  Deum  poteras,  6  caeca ;  sed  oro,' 
Et  patrem  poteras  tarn  male  nosse  t  uum  ? 

Now  we  know  Thee  to  have  a  devil. 

God  or  the  devil  by  you 

ought  better  to  be  known, 
Ye  wicked  ones,  who  charge 

your  God  a  devil  to  own. 
Ign'rant  of  God,  indeed, 

ye  well  might  be ;  but  0, 
The  devil,  your  own  father, 

how  could  ye  fail  to  know  ?  G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  69 

LI. 

In  beatae  Virginis  verecundiam. 

In  gremio,  quaeris,  cur  sic  sua  lumina  Virgo 
Ponat  1  ubi  melius  poneret  ilia,  precor  ? 

0  ubi,  quam  coelo,  melius  sua  lumina  ponat  ? 
Despicit,  at  coelum  sic  tamen  ilia  videt. 

On  the  blessed  Virgin's  bashfulness. 
That  on  her  lap  she  casts  her  humble  eye, 
Tis  the  sweet  pride  of  her  humility. 
The  faire  starre  is  well  fixt,  for  where,  0,  where, 
Could  she  have  fixt  it  on  a  fairer  spheare  1 
'Tis  Heav'n,  'tis  Heav'n  she  sees,  Heaven's  God  there 

lyes; 

She  can  see  Heaven,  and  ne're  lift  up  her  eyes. 
This  new  guest  to  her  eyes  new  lawes  hath  given : 
'Twas  once  looke  up,  'tis  now  looke  downe  to  Heaven. 

CR. 
LII. 

In  vulnera  Dei  pendentis. 
0  frontis,  lateris,  manuumque  pedumque  cruores; 

0  quae  purpureo  flumina  fonte  patent : 
In  nostram,  ut  quondam,  pes  non  valet  ire  salutem, 

Sed  natat ;  in  fluviis,  ah,  natat  ille  suis. 
Fixa  manus ;  dat,  fixa  :  pios  bona  dextera  rores 

Donat,  et  in  donum  solvitur  ipsa  suum. 
0  latus,  6  torrens ;  quis  enim  torrentior  exit 
Nilus,  ubi  pronis  praecipitatur  aquis  ? 


70  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Mille  et  mille  sirnul  cadit  et  cadit  undique  guttis 

Frons  :  viden'  ut  saevus  purpuret  ora  pudor  1 
Spinae  hoc  irriguae  florent  crudeliter  imbre, 

Inque  novas  sperant  protinus  ire  rosas. 
Quisque  capillus  it  exiguo  tener  alveus  amne, 

Hoc  quasi  de  rubro  rivulus  oceano. 
0  nimium  vivae  pretiosis  amnibus  undae  : 

Fons  vitae  nunquam  verior  ille  fuit. 

On  the  wounds  of  our  crucified  Lord. 

0  bleeding  wounds  of  brow,  feet,  hands,  and  side ; 

Eivers  which  from  a  purple  fount  spread  wide. 

No  more  to  save  us  now  that  foot  can  go, 

But  swims  in  streams  which  from  its  own  wounds  flow. 

Transfix'd  His  hand  yet  gives — gives  dewdrops  holy, 

And  into  its  own  gift  is  melted  wholly. 

0  side,  0  torrent ;  for  with  torrent  strong 

What  flooded  Nile  more  swift  is  driven  along  1 

Drops  from  His  brow  in  thousands  fall  and  fall ; 

See  to  His  face  a  cruel  blush  they  call. 

By  this  sad  shower  the  thorns  unkindly  nurst 

Soon  into  new-blown  roses  hope  to  burst. 

Each  hair  becomes  a  slender  streamlet's  bed, 

As  if  a  rivulet  from  this  ocean  red. 

0  waves  too  much  alive  with  precious  streams, 

Nowhere  a  fount  of  life  more  truly  gleams.1    E.  Wi. 

1  Cf.  our  vol.  i.  pp.  50-1.     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  i  I 

LIII. 

Quare  cum  Publicanis  manducat  Magister  vester?  Matt.  ix.  11. 

Ergo  istis  socium  se  peccatoribus  addit  1 
Ergo  istis  sacrum  non  negat  ille  latus  1 

Tu,  Pharisaee,  rogas,  Jesus  cur  fecerit  istud  1 
Kae  dicam  :  Jesus,  non  Pharisaeus,  erat. 

Wherefore  eateth  your  Master  with  Publicans  ? 
Wherefore  associates  He  with  sinners  vile  ? 
Why  hides  He  not  His  holy  self  the  while  1 
Askest  thou,  Pharisee,  how  this  can  be  ? 
Because  'tis  Jesus,  not  a  Pharisee.  G. 

LIV. 

Ecce  locus  ubijacuit  Dominus. 

Ipsum,  ipsum,  precor,  6  potius  mihi,  candide,  monstra: 

Ipsi,  ipsi  6  lacrymis  oro  sit  ire  meis. 
Si  monstrare  locum  satis  est,  et  dicere  nobis, 

En,  Maria,  hie  tuus  en  hie  jacuit  Dominus; 
Ipsa  ulnas  monstrare  meas,  et  dicere  possum, 

En,  Maria,  hie  tuus  en  hie  jacuit  Dominus. 

(iaK\6v  fJLOi  dsixvudi  atrov. 


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'Ayxo/vag  //<oy  duxvvvai  dvvaftai  yt  xai  l/Vi/V, 
a^,  ^v«3g,  xs/ro  avag. 


72  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Come,  see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay. 

Show  me  Himselfe,  Himselfe,  bright  Sir,  0  show 
Which  way  my  poore  tears  to  Himselfe  may  goe. 
Were  it  enough  to  show  the  place,  and  say, 
Looke,  Mary,  here,  see  where  thy  Lord  once  lay ; 
Then  could  I  show  these  armes  of  mine,  and  say, 
Looke,  Mary,  here,  see  where  thy  Lord  once  lay. 

Vpon  the  sepulchre  of  our  Lord. 

Here,  where  our  Lord  once  laid  His  head, 

Now  the  grave  lies  buried.  CR. 

LV. 

Leprosi  Ingrati.  Luc.  xvii.  11-19. 

Lex  jubet  ex  hominum  coetu  procul  ire  leprosos  : 
At  mundi  a  Christo  cur  abiere  procul  1 

ISTon  abit,  at  sedes  tantum  mutavit  in  illis ; 
Et  lepra,  quae  fuerat  corpore,  mente  sedet. 

Sic  igitur  digna  vice  res  variatur ;  et  a  se 

Quam  procul  ante  homines,  nunc  habuere  Deum. 

The  unthankful  lepers.   (Where  are  the  nine?) 
The  Lord  commands  the  lepers 

far  off  from  men  to  stay  : 
But  cleansed  by  the  Lord, 

why  went  the  Nine  away  ? 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  73 

The  leprosy  remaineth, 

chang'd  only  in  its  seat : 
Expelled  from  the  body, 

to  the  soul  it  makes  retreat. 
Now  by  fit  retribution 

a  change  is  brought  about : 
Before  shut  out  from  men, 

from  God  they're  now  shut  out.         G. 

LVI. 

In  cicatrices  quas  Christus  habet  in  se  adhuc  superstites. 
Joan.  xx. 

Quicquid  spina  procax,  vel  stylo  clavus  acuto, 
Quicquid  purpurea  scripserat  hasta  nota, 

Vivit  adhuc  tecum ;  sed  jam  tua  vulnera  non  sunt : 
JS"on,  sed  vulneribus  sunt  medicina  meis. 

On  the  still-surviving  markes  of  our  Saviour's  wounds. 
Whatever  story  of  their  crueltie, 
Or  naile,  or  thorne,  or  speare  have  writ  in  Thee, 
Are  in  another  sence 

Still  legible ; 
Sweet  is  the  difference  : 

Once  I  did  spell 
Every  red  letter 

A  wound  of  Thine  ; 
Now,  what  is  better, 

Balsome  for  mine.  OR. 


74  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

Each  bloody,  cruel  character, 

Thorn,  nail,  and  spear  had  written, 
"When  here,  as  man's  great  Arbiter, 

On  Calvary  Thou  wert  smitten, 
Thou  wearest  still  above,  0  Lord  : 

But  now  no  longer  wounds  they  are ; 
According  to  Thy  Holy  Word, 

They  med'cine  for  my  wounds  declare.  G. 

LVIL 

Aeger  implorat  umbram  D.  Petri.   Act.  v.  15. 
Petre,  tua  lateam  paulisper,  Petre,  sub  umbra  : 

Sic  mea  me  quaerent  fata,  nee  invenient. 
Umbra  dabit  tua  posse  meum  me  cernere  solem ; 
Et  mea  lux  umbrae  sic  erit  umbra  tuae. 

The  sick  implore  St.  Peter's  shadow. 
Under  thy  shadow  may  I  lurke  awhile, 
Death's  busie  search  He  easily  beguile  : 
Thy  shadow,  Peter,  must  show  me  the  sun ; 
My  light's  thy  shadowe's  shadow,  or  'tis  done.     CR. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

0  Peter,  Peter,  let  thy  shadow  fall 
Where  I  in  wretchedness  a-weary  crawl : 
Here  vainly  shall  my  fates  upon  me  call. 
Thy  shadow  me  shall  guide  unto  my  sun — 
Whoe'er  sought  Him  in  truth,  and  was  undone  ? — 
And  so  my  light,  thy  shadow,  shall  be  one.  G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  75 


LVIII. 

Quid  turbati  estis  ?  Videte  manus  meas  et  pedes,  quia  ego  ipse 
sum.   Luc.  xxiv.  39. 

En  me  et  signa  mei,  quondam  mea  vulnera  :  certe, 
Vos  nisi  credetis,  vulnera  sunt  et  adhuc. 

0  nunc  ergo  fidem  sanent  mea  vulnera  vestram : 
0  mea  nunc  sanet  vulnera  vestra  fides. 

Why  are  ye  troubled  ?  .  .  .  Behold  My  hands  and  My  feet,  that 
it  is  I  myself. 

'Tis  I ;  behold  My  proofs,  My  wounds  of  old ; 

Wounds  -which  .still  bleed,  if  you  will  not  believe. 
0,  now  to  heal  your  faith  My  wounds  behold, 

And  healing  from  your  faith  My  wounds  receive. 

LIX. 

In  vincula  Petro  sponte  delapsa,  et  apertas  fores.  Act.  xii.  7, 10. 

Ferri.  non  meminit  ferrum  :  se  vincula  Petro 
Dissimulant :  nesclt  career  habere  fores. 

Quam  bene  liber  erit,  career  quern  liberat !  ipsa 
Vincula  quern  solvunt,  quam  bene  tutus  erit ! 

The  chains  spontaneously  fell  from  Peter,  and  the  (prison) -doors 
opened. 

Iron  forgets  'tis  iron  : 

the  chains  dissemble  too ; 
Nor  has  the  prison  doors 

for  Peter  now. 


76  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Free  truly  is  that  pris'ner 

who  by  the  prison's  freed ; 

Whom  chains  themselves  unbind 
free  is  indeed. 

LX. 

Deferebantur  a  corpore  ejus  sudaria,  &c.  Act.  xix.  12. 
Imperiosa  premunt  morbos,  et  ferrea  fati 

Jura  ligant,  Pauli  lintea  tacta  manu. 
Unde  haec  felicis  laus  est  et  gloria  lini  ? 

Haec,  reor,  e  Lachesis  pensa  fuere  colo. 

From  his  body  there  were  brought  unto  the  sick  handkerchiefs, 
&c. 

They  quell  disease,  and  sway  Fate's  iron  bands, 
These  lordly  linen  cloths  touched  by  Paul's  hands. 
Whence  rose  the  glory  of  their  happy  fame  ? 
From  the  Fates'  distaff,  sure,  these  kerchiefs  came. 

K.Wi. 
LXI. 

Christus  vitis  ad  vinitorem  Patrem.  Joan.  xv.  1-6. 
En  serpit  tua,  purpureo  tua  palmite  vitis 

Serpit,  et,  ah,  spretis  it  per  humum  foliis. 
Tu  viti  succurre  tuae,  mi  Yinitor  ingens  : 

Da  fulcrum ;  fulcrum  da  inihi :  quale  1  crucem. 

Christ  the  Vine  to  the  Vinedresser-Father. 
Lo,  Thy  vine  trails,  trails  with  a  purple  shoot, 
Scatt'ring  its  leaves  before  it  beareth  fruit. 
Succour  Thy  vine,  great  Vinedresser,  from  loss : 
Support,  support  me,  Lord:  how1?  With  Thy  cross.    G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  77 

LXII. 

Pene  persuades  mihi  ut  fiam  Christianus.  Act.  xxvi.  28. 
Pene  ?  quid  hoc  pene  est  1   Yicinia  saeva  salutis  ! 

0  quam  tu  malus  es  proximitate  boni ! 
Ah,  portu  qui  teste  perit,  bis  naufragus  ille  est ; 

Hunc  non  tarn  pelagus,  quam  sua  terra  premit. 
Quae  nobis  spes  vix  absunt,  crudelius  absunt : 

Pene  sui  felix,  emphasis  est  miseri. 

Almost  thou  persuades t  me  to  be  a  Christian. 
Almost?   What  word  is  this  we  hear? 
0  doubly  lost,  with  heaven  so  near  ! 
To  perish  in  the  neighbourhood 
Of  vast  but  unavailing  good  ! 
He  shipwreck  undergoes  twice  o'er 
Who  perishes  in  sight  of  shore, 
And  less  by  ocean  is  o'ercome 
Than  by  that  hopeless  glimpse  of  home. 
The  hopes  that  almost  seem  our  own 
Leave  all  the  keener  sting  when  gone ; 
And  just  to  miss  felicity 
Is  but  emphatic  misery.  CL. 

LXIII. 
Lux  venit  in  mundum,  sed  dilexerunt  homines  magis  tenebras 

quam  lucem.   Joan.  iii.  19. 
Luce  sua  venit  ecce  Deus,  mundoque  refulget ; 

Pergit  adhuc  tenebras  mundus  amare  suas. 
At  Stygiis  igitur  mundus  damnabitur  umbris  : 

Pergit  adhuc  tenebras  mundus  amare  suas  ? 


78  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

But  men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light. 
The  world's  Light  shines  :  shine  as  it  will, 
The  world  will  love  its  darknesse  still. 
I  doubt  though,  when  the  world's  in  hell, 
It  will  not  love  its  darknesse  halfe  so  well.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Behold  the  day  of  Christ !     God  conies  with  light ; 
Yet  the  world  loves  the  darkness  of  the  night. 
Therefore  the  world  to  Stygian  darkness  will 
Be  damn'd :  and  doth  the  world  love  darkness  still  ?    B. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

Lo,  God  comes  girt  with  light, 

and  all  the  world  o'ershines  : 
The  world  abides  in  night, 

nor  watcheth  for  the  signs. 
To  Stygian  darkness  hurl'd 

on  the  great  Day  of  Doom, 
Shalt  thou,  night-loving  world, 

still  love  thy  lightless  gloom  ?  G. 

4 

LXIV. 

Dives  implorat  guttam.   Luc.  xvi.  24. 

0  mini  si  digito  tremat  et  tremat  unica  summo 
Gutta  !  6  si  flammas  mulceat  una  meas  ! 

Currat  opum  quocunque  volet  levis  unda  mearum ; 
Una  mihi  haec  detur  gemmula,  Dives  ero. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  79 

Dives  asking  a  drop. 

A  drop,  one  drop  !  how  sweetly  one  faire  drop 
Would  tremble  on  my  pearle-tipt  finger's  top  ! 
My  wealth  is  gone  :  0,  goe  it  where  it  will, 
Spare  this  one  iewell,  Tie  be  Dives  still.  CR. 

LXV. 

Quomodo  potest  homo  gigni  qui  est  senex  ?  Joan.  iii.  4. 
Die,  Phoenix  unde  in  nitidos  novus  emicat  annos, 

Plaudit  et  elusos  aurea  penna  rogos  ? 
Quis  colubrum  dolus  insinuat  per  secula  retro, 

Et  jubet  emeritum  luxuriare  latus  1 
Cur  rostro  pereunte  suam  praedata  senectam 

Torva  ales,  rapido  plus  legit  ore  diem  ? 
Immo,  sed  ad  nixus  praestat  Lucina  secundos  ? 

Natales  seros  unde  senex  habeat. 
Ignoras,  Pharisaee  ?  sat  est :  jam  credere  disces  : 

Dimidium  fidei,  qui  bene  nescit,  habet. 

How  can  a  man  be  born  when  he  is  old  ?• 
See  how  new  Phoenix  into  bright  life  springs, 
And  fans  the  unhurting  flames  with  golden  wings. 
O'er  snake  what  subtle  change  creeps  as  months  flow, 
Bidding  its  faded  frame  with  beauty  glow. 
Why,  on  itself  with  worn  beak  having  prey'd, 
Is  raven  old  more  youthful  swift  array'd1? 
O'er  second  birth-throes  bears  Lucina  sway, 
Whence  an  old  man  may  have  late  natal  day  ? 


80  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Pharisee,  know'st  not  ?  Well,  now  faith  thou'lt  learn 
Wisely  to  know  not,  half  faith's  crown  doth  earn. 

R  Wi. 
LXVI. 

Arbor  Christi  jussu  arescens.    Marc.  xi.  13. 
Ille  jubet :  procul  ite  mei,  mea  gloria,  rami : 

Nulla  vocet  nostras  amplius  aura  comas. 
Ite,  nee  6  pigeat ;  nam  vos  neque  fulminis  ira, 

Nee  trucis  ala  Noti  verherat :  ille  jubet. 
0  vox,  6  Zephyro  vel  sic  quoque  dulcior  omni ; 

Non  possum  Autumno  nobiliore  frui. 

The  tree  dried  up  by  the  word  of  Christ. 
He  speaks  :  hence,  leaves;  my  glory  hence,  away; 
Thou  Zephyr  'mid  my  leaves  no  longer  play ; 
Begone  :  nor  grieve  :  'tis  not  the  lightning's  wrath, 
Nor  wing  of  the  storm-wind  that  smites  :  HE  saith. 
0  voice,  than  Zephyr  sweeter  far  to  me ; 
More  noble  autumn-fruit  could  never  be.  G. 

LXVII. 

Zacharias  minus  credens.    Luc.  i.  12. 
Infantijj  fore  te  patrem,  res  mira  videtur ; 

Infans  interea  factus  es  ipse  pater. 
Et  dum  promissi  signum,  nimis  anxie,  quaeris, 

Jam  nisi  per  signum  quaerere  nulla  potes. 

Zacharias  incredulous. 

To  have  a  child  thou  deem'st  so  strange  a  thing, 
That  thou  art  made  a  child  for  wondering. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  81 

Whilst  for  a  sign  too  eagerly  thou  dost  call, 
Except  by  sign  thou  can'st  not  ask  at  all.  CL. 

LXVIII. 

In  aquam  baptismi  Dominici.  Matt.  iii.  13-16. 
Felix  6,  sacros  cui  sic  licet  ire  per  artus ; 

Felix,  dum  lavat  hunc,  ipsa  lavatur  aqua. 
Gutta  quidem  sacros  quaecunque  perambulat  artus, 
Dum  manet  hie,  gemma  est ;  dum  cadit  hinc,  lacryma. 

On  the  water  of  our  Lord's  baptisme. 
Each  blest  drop  on  each  blest  limme 
Is  washt  itselfe  in  washing  Him : 
'Tis  a  gemme  while  it  stayes  here ; 
While  it  falls  hence  'tis  a  teare.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VEBSION. 

Happy  the  water  washt  His  sacred  side ; 

In  washing  Christ  itself  is  purify'd. 

Each  drop  that  trickled  down  His  body,  there 

Staying  a  gem,  thence  falling  was  a  tear.  B. 

LXIX. 

Mulieri  incurvatae  medeturDominus,  indignanteArchisynagogo. 
Luc.  xiii.  11. 

In  proprios  replicata  sinus  quae  repserat,  et  jam 
Daemonis,  infelix,  nil  nisi  nodus  erat, 

Solvitur  ad  digitum  Domini :  sed  strictior  illo 
Unicus  est  nodus ;  cor,  Pharisaee,  tuum. 
VOL.  u.  g 


82  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

The  bowed-down  woman  healed  by  the  Lord,  the  Synagogue- 
ruler  is  displeased. 

Creeping  and  doubled  erewliile  in  her  woe, 
Lo,  now  she  stands  erect :  Christ  willed  it  so. 
Daemonic  knots  are  loos'd  beneath  His  hands ; 
But  thy  heart,  Pharisee,  still  rigid  stands.  G. 

LXX. 

Neque  ausus  fuit  quisquam  ex  illo  die  eum  amplius  interrogare. 

Matt.  xxii.  46. 
Christe,  malas  fraudes,  Pharisaica  retia,  fallis  : 

Et  miseros  sacro  discutis  ore  dolos. 
Ergo  tacent  tandem,  atque  invita  silentia  servant : 

Tarn  bene  non  aliter  te  potuere  loqui.1 

Neither  durst  any  man  from  that  day  forth  ask  Him  any  more 
questions. 

Nets,  frauds  of  Pharisees,  the  Lord  beguiles ; 

His  sacred  lips  disperse  the  wretched  wiles. 

So  they  were  silent — enforc'd  so  to  be  : 

Such  silence,  Lord,  their  best  address  to  Thee.         G. 

LXXI. 

4        S.  Joannes  matri  suae.  Matt.  xx.  20. 
0  mihi  cur  dextram,  mater,  cur,  oro,  sinistram 

Poscis,  ab  officio  mater  iniqua  tuo  ? 
Nolo  manum  Christi  dextram  mihi,  nolo  sinistram  : 
Tarn  procul  a  sacro  non  libet  esse  sinu. 

1  See  vol.  i.  pp.  47-8,  for  Crashaw's  own  poem  enlarging  the 
epigram.    G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  83 

St.  John  and  his  mother. 

Mother,  why  ask  you  right  or  left  for  me  ? 
The  benefit  would  be  an  injury. 
Nor  right  nor  left  for  me  convenient  are  : 
From  His  sweet  bosome  either  is  too  far.  B. 

LXXII. 

SifillusDel  es,  dejice  te.  Matt.  iv.  6. 
Ni  se  dejiciat  Christus  de  vertice  Templi, 

Non  credes  quod  sit  Filius  ille  Dei? 
At  mox  te  humano  de  pectore  dejicit :  heus  tu, 

Non  credes  quod  sit  Filius  ille  Dei? 

If  Thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  Thyself  down. 
Cast  Thyself  from  the  pinacle  whereon 
I  set  Thee,  or  I  think  Thee  not  God's  Son. 
No ;  but  He'l  cast  thee  from  the  hearts  of  men, 
Satan.    Wilt  not  believe  He's  God's  Son  then?    B. 

LXXIII. 

Dominus  fiens  ad  Judaeos.  Luc.  xix.  41. 
Discite,  vos  miseri,  venientes  discite  flammas  \ 

Nee  facite  6  lacrymas  sic  periisse  meas. 
Nee  periisse  tamen  poterunt :  mihi  credite,  vestras 

Vel  reprimet  flammas  haec  aqua,  vel  faciet. 

The  Lord  weeping  over  the  Jews. 
Think  on  the  coming  flames  I  would  prevent ; 
Let  not  My  tears  for  you  in  vain  be  spent. 
And  yet  they  can't  be  spent  in  vain ;  for  sure 
This  water  flames  will  quench,  or  else  procure.       B. 


84  EPIGBAMMATA  SACRA. 

LXXIV. 

Nec  velut  hie  Public  anus.  Luc.  xviii.  11. 

Istum  ?  vile  caput !  quantum  mihi  gratulor,  inquis, 
Istum  quod  novi  tarn  mihi  dissimilem  ! 

Vilis  at  iste  abiit  sacris  acceptior  aris  : 
I  nunc,  et  jactes  hunc  tibi  dissimilem. 

Nor  even  as  this  publican. 
Him,  '  vile  wretch  !'  Ah,  myself  how  much  I  pride 

That  I  am  utterly  unlike  to  him ! 
The  '  vile  wretch'  leaves  God's  altar  justified  : 

Now  go  and  boast  thou  art  unlike  to  him.       G. 

LXXV. 

In  Saulum  fulgore  nimio  excaecatum.  Act.  ix.  3. 

Quae  lucis  tenebrae  ?  quae  nox  est  ista  diei  1 
Nox  nova,  quam  nimii  luminis  umbra  facit. 

An  Saulus  fuerit  caecus,  vix  dicere  possum  • 
Hoc  scio,  quod  captus  lumine  Saulus  erat.1 

On  Saul  blinded  with  too  much  light. 
What  darken' d  noon  is  here  1  what  mid-day  night  ? 
It  is  the  shadow  cast  by  too  much  light. 
Saul  may  be  blind  or  not ;  all  I  can  say, 
Ta'en  within  Heaven's  light  earth's  light  fades  away. 

K.Wi. 

1  Barksdale  thus  renders  the  latter  couplet : 

'  That  Saul  was  hlind,  I  will  not  say : 
Sure  Saul  was  captus  lumine.' 


EPIGBAMMATA  SACRA.  85 

LXXVI. 

Beati  oculi  qui  vident.  Luc.  x.  23. 
Cum  Christus  nostris  ibat  mitissimus  oris, 

Atque  novum  caecos  jussit  habere  diem, 
Felices,  oculos  qui  tune  habuere,  vocantur  ? 
Felices,  et  qui  non  habuere,  voco. 

Blessed  are  the  eyes  which  see. 
When  Christ  with  us  on  Earth  did  sympathize, 
And  to  the  poor  blind  men  restor'd  their  eyes, 
Happy  they  who  had  eyes.     Not  they  alone ; 
I  call  them  also  happy  who  had  none.  B. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

When  Christ  on  earth  moved  on  His  pitying  way, 
And  bade  the  blind  look  up  and  find  new  day, 
Was  eyesight  then  such  bliss  to  every  one  1 
Yet  I  will  deem  them  happy  who  had  none.          G. 

LXXVII. 

Filius  e  feretro  matri  redditur.  Luc.  vii.  15. 
Ergone  tarn  subita  potuit  vice  flebilis  horror 

In  natalitia  candidus  ire  toga  ? 
Quos  vidi,  matris  gemitus  hos  esse  dolentis 

Credideram ;  gemitus  parturientis  erant. 

Her  son  is  delivered  to  his  mother  from  the  bier. 
With  such  quick  change  could  tear-bedew'd  Dismay 
Give  birthday  smiles,  and  walk  in  white  array? 


86  EPIGKAMMATA  SACEA. 

Heard  I  bereaved  mother's  wailings  wild  1 

£s"o  ;  the  blest  cries  of  one  who  bears  a  child  !    E.  "Wi. 

LXXVIII. 

In  seculi  sapientes.  Matt.  xi.  25. 

Ergone  delicias  facit,  et  sibi  plaudit  ab  alto 

Stultitia,  lit  velit  hac  ambitione  peti1? 
Difficilisne  adeo  facta  est,  et  seria  tandem  1 

Ergo  et  in  hanc  etiam  quis  sapuisse  potest  ? 
Tantum  erat,  ut  possit  tibi  doctior  esse  ruina  ? 

Tanti  igitur  cerebri  res,  periisse,  fuit  ? 
Nil  opus  ingenio  ;  nihil  hac  opus  arte  furoris  : 

Simplicius  poteris  scilicet  esse  miser. 

On  the  wise  of  this  world. 

With  such  complacent  joys  is  Eolly  fraught, 
That  with  this  trouble  she  must  needs  be  sought  ? 
So  difficult  and  grave  is  she  turn'd  now, 
Can  any  one  for  her  be  wise  enow? 
Must  Ruin  to  be  deeper  taught  aspire  1 
To  perish,  does  it  so  much  brain  require  ? 
Genius  and  skill  in  madness  who  would  see  ? 
Eorsootn,  more  simply  you  may  wretched  be  !    E.  Wi. 

LXXIX. 

InJudaeos  Christum  praecipitare  conantes.  Luc.  iv.  29. 
Dicite,  quae  tanta  est  sceleris  fiducia  vestri, 

Quod  nequiit  daemon,  id  voluisse  scelus  1 
Quod  nequiit  daemon  scelus,  id  voluisse  patrare : 

Hoc  tentare  ipsum  daemona,  credo,  fuit. 


EPIGBAMMATA  SACRA.  87 

The  Jews  seeking  to  cast  Christ  headlong  from  a  precipice. 
What  daring  leads  you  on,  ungodly  crew, 
To  that  which  ev'n  the  Devil  durst  not  do? 
Ye  dare  what  he  dares  not  1    If  truth  be  told, 
Ye  tempt  the  Devil's  self  to  be  more  bold.  G. 

LXXX. 

In  draconem  praecipitem.  Eev.  xii.  9. 
I,  frustra  truculente ;  tuas  procul  aurea  rident 

Astra  minas,  coelo  jam  bene  tuta  suo. 
Tune  igitur  coelum  super  ire  atque  astra  parabas  1 

Ascensu  tanto  non  opus  ad  barathrum. 

The  casting-down  of  the  dragon. 
Go,  Dragon  !  the  fair  stars  smile  at  thy  threat, 

Secure,  serene,  in  native  skies  a-glow. 
Thy  throne  o'er  sky  and  stars  thou  fain  would'st  set ; 

Thou  need'st  not  vault  so  high  to  plunge  so  low.  G. 

LXXXI. 

Beatae  Virgini  credenti.   Luc.  ii.  19. 
Miraris,  quid  enim  faceres  ?  sed  et  haec  quoque  credis  : 

Haec  uteri  credis  dulcia  monstra  tui. 
En  fidei,  Regina,  tuae  dignissima  merces  : 

Fida  Dei  fueras  filia ;  mater  eris. 

The  blessed  Virgin  believing. 

Thou  wondered'st !  how  else  could'st  thou  so  guarded  ? 
Yet  thou  believ'dst  the  mighty  coming  birth ; 


88  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Queen  !  thy  faith's  working  is  full  well  rewarded ; 
God's  daughter,  thou  God's  mother  art  on  earth.    G. 

LXXXII. 

Licetne  Caesari  censum  dare  ?  Marc.  xii.  14. 
Post  tot  Scribarum,  Christe,  in  te  proelia,  tandem 

Ipse  venit  Caesar ;  Caesar  in  arma  venit. 
Pugnant  terribiles  non  Caesaris  ense,  sed  ense 

Caesare  :  quin  Caesar  vinceris  ipse  tamen. 
Hoc  quoque  tu  conscribe  tuis,  Auguste,  triumphis. 

Sic  vinci  dignus  quis  nisi  Caesar  erat  1 

Is  it  lawful  to  give  tribute  to  Ccesar  ? 
After  so  many  battles  with  the  Scribes,  0  Lord, 
Csesar  himself  comes ;  Caesar  with  his  sword. 
They  fight  not  arm'd  with  Caesar's  sword  indeed ; 
But  Caesar  as  their  sword  with  craft  they  plead. 
Conquer'd  thyself,  0  Caesar,  make  it  known — 
Who  save  thee,  worthy  so  to  be  o'erthrown.  G. 

LXXXIII. 

In  tibicines  et  turbam  tumultuantem  circa  defunctam. 
Matt.  ix.  23. 

Vani,  quid  strepitis  ?  nam  quamvis  dormiat  ilia,1 
ISTon  tamen  e  somno  est  sic  revocanda  suo. 

Expectat  solos  Christi  sopor  iste  susurros : 
Dormit  enim ;  sed  non  omnibus  ilia  tamen. 

1  Ver.  24.  Non  enim  mortua  eat  puella,  sed  dormit.    CB. 


EPIQRAMMATA  SACRA.  89 

The  minstrels  and  crowd  making  a  noise  about  the  dead. 
Vain  mourning  this ;  why  make  ye  such  loud  noise  ? 

She  sleeps  indeed,  but  so  will  not  awake. 
Her  sleep  waits  for  the  whisper  of  His  voice 

Who  a  great  promise  to  her  father  spake.         G. 

LXXXIV. 

Piscatores  vocati.  Matt.  iv.  19. 
Ludite  jam,  pisces,  secura  per  aequora  :  pisces 

Nos  quoque,  sed  varia  sub  ratione,  sumus. 
Non  potuisse  capi,  vobis  spes  una  salutis : 

Una  salus  nobis  est,  potuisse  capi. 

The  fishermen  called. 

Play,  fishes,  in  your  waters,  safely  play  : 
We  become  fishes  too,  another  way. 
Not  to  be  taken,  to  you  safety  brought : 
But  we  are  then  most  safe  when  we  are  caught.     B. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

Careless,  aneath  the  waves,  ye  fishes,  play  : 

We  too  are  fishes,  in  a  different  way ; 

Ye  die,  we  live,  being  caught ;  and  that  for  aye.    G. 

ANOTHER. 

Sport,  fishes,  now,  within  the  secure  sea  : 

Lo,  fishes  too,  in  different  kind,  are  we. 

In  shunning  nets  your  hope  of  safety  lay; 

Our  safety  is  to  be  the  netter's  prey.  A. 


90  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

LXXXV. 

Date  Caesari.   Marc.  xii.  17. 
Cuncta  Deo  debentur  :  liabet  tamen  et  sua  Caesar ; 

Nee  minus  inde  Deo  est,  si  sua  Caesar  habet. 
NOIL  minus  inde  Deo  est,  solio  si  caetera  dantur 

Caesareo,  Caesar  cum  datur  ipse  Deo. 

Give  to  Ccesar  ....  and  to  God  .... 
All  we  have  is  God's,  and  yet 
Caesar  challenges  a  debt ; 
Nor  hath  God  a  thinner  share, 
Whatever  Caesar's  payments  are. 
All  is  God's  j  and  yet  'tis  true 
All  we  have  is  Cesar's  too. 
All  is  Caesar's  ;  and  what  ods, 
So  long  as  Caesar's  selfe  is  God's  ?  CR. 

ANCiTHEK  RENDEKING. 

All  things  belong  to  God,  yet  Caesar  has  his  all ; 
Not  due  the  less  to  God  that  they  to  Caesar  fall. 
Not  less  they're  God's  because  they're  giv'n  to  Caesar's 

throne ; 
For  Caesar's  throne  itself  belongs  to  God  alone.        G. 

LXXXVI. 

Dominus  asino  vehitur.   Matt.  xxi.  7. 
Ille  igitur  vilem  te,  te  dignatur  asellum, 

0  non  vectura  non  bene  digne  tua  ! 
Heu,  quibus  haud  pugnat  Christi  patientia  monstris  I 

Hoc  quod  sic  fertur,  hoc  quoque  ferre  fuit. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  91 

The  Lord  borne  on  the  ass. 
Does  He,  base  ass,  thus  deign  to  honour  thee, 

Unworthy  thus  to  bear  th'  incarnate  God  ? 
Alas,  Thy  patience  strangely  tried  I  see, 

Thee  carried  thus  who  bear'st  sin's  awful  load  !    B. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

A  common  ass  does  the  Lord  dignify  1 

0,  how  unworthy  such  a  burden  high  ! 

With  the  Lord's  patience,  ah,  what  can  compare  1 

So  to  be  borne,  this  also  was  to  bear.  E.  Wi. 

LXXXVII. 

Videbunt  Filium  hominis  venientem  in  nube.   Luc.  xxi.  27. 
Immo,  veni :  aerios,  6  Christe,  accingere  currus, 

Inque  triumphal!  nube  coruscus  ades. 
Nubem  quaeris  ?  erunt  nostra,  ah !  suspiria  nubes  : 

Aut  sol  in  nubem  se  dabit  ipse  tuam. 

They  shall  see  the  Son  of  Man  coming  in  a  cloud. 
Come,  yoke  Thy  chariots  of  the  air,  0  Lord ; 
Triumphal  honours  let  bright  clouds  afford. 
Dost  seek  a  cloud  1    Our  sighs  a  cloud  will  be, 
Or  the  sun  melt  into  a  cloud  for  Thee.  G. 

LXXXVIII. 

Nisi  digitum  immisero,  &c.  Joan.  xx.  25. 

Impius  ergo  iterum  clavos  1  iterum  impius  hastam  ? 

Et  totum  digitus  triste  revolvet  opus  ? 
Tune  igitur  Christum,  Thoma,  quo  vivere  credas, 

In  Christum  faceres,  ah  truculente  !  mori  ? 


92  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

CHBIST  TO  THOMAS. 

Except  I  shall  put  my  finger,  &c. 
Thy  impious  finger,  would  it,  then,  re-borrow 
The  nails,  the  spear,  each  circumstance  of  sorrow? 
That  on  a  living  Christ  thou  mayst  rely, 
Cruel,  wouldst  thou  thy  Christ  re-crucify?  G. 

LXXXIX. 

Ad  Judaeos  mactatores  S.  Stephani.  Act.  vi.  9-12. 
Quid  datis,  ah  miseri !  saxis  nolentibus  iras  ? 

Quid  nimis  in  tragicum  praecipitatis  opus  ? 
In  mortem  Stephani  se  dant  invita  :  sed  illi 

Occiso  faciunt  sponte  sua  tumulum. 

To  the  Jews  stoning  St.  Stephen. 
Wretches,  do  ye  put  rage  into  cold  stones  1 

Why  rush  so  eagerly  to  work  so  vile  ? 
Your  stones  unwilling  add  to  Stephen's  moans, 

But  gladly  heap  a  tomb  for  him  the  while.       G. 

XC. 

Sancto  Joanni  dilecto  discipulo. 
Tu  fruere,  augustoque  sinu  caput  abde,  quod  o  turn 

Nollet  in  aeterna  se  posuisse  rosa. 
Tu  fruere ;  et  sacro  dum  te  sic  pectore  portat, 

0  sat  erit  tergo  me  potuisse  vehi. 

To  St.  John  the  beloved  disciple. 
Upon  His  breast  thy  happy  head  reposes, 
Nor  would  that  pillow  change  for  Heaven's  own  roses 


EPIGBAMMATA  SACRA.  93 

While  thus  His  bosom  bears  up  happy  thee, 

To  press  His  shoulders  were  enough  for  me.  G. 

XCI. 

In  lactentes  martyres.  Matt.  ii.  16,  17. 
Vulnera  natorum  qui  vidit  et  ubera  matrum, 

Per  pueros  fluviis,  ah !  simul  ire  suis  : 
Sic  pueros  quisquis  vidit,  dubitavit  an  illos 

Lilia  coelorum  diceret,  anne  rosas. 

Upon  the  infant  martyrs. 
To  see  both  blended  in  one  flood, 
The  mothers'  milk,  the  childrens'  blood, 
Makes  me  doubt  if  Heaven  will  gather 
Roses  hence,  or  lillies  rather.  CB. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

Who  saw  the  infants'  blood  and  milk  of  mother 

Flowing,  alas,  in  a  commingl'd  tide, 
Doubtingly  ask'd,  and  gaz'd  from  one  to  other, 

Whether  Heav'n's  rose  or  lily  they  espy'd.       G. 

XCII. 

Deus  nobiscum.  Matt.  i.  23. 
Nobiscum  Deus  est  1  vestrum  hoc  est,  hei  mihi !  vestrum : 

Vobiscum  Deus  est,  6  asini  atque  boves. 
Nobiscum  non  est ;  nam  nos  domus  aurea  sumit : 

Nobiscum  Deus  est,  et  jacet  in  stabulo  1 
Hoc  igitur  nostrum  ut  fiat,  dulcissime  Jesu, 
Nos  dandi  stabulis,  vel  tibi  danda  domus. 


94  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

God  with  us. 

Is  God  with  us  1     Woe's  me, 
God  is  with  you,  ye  beasts,  I  see. 
God  is  with  you,  ye  beasts ; 
God  comes  not  to  our  golden  feasts. 
That  God  may  be  with  us, 
We  must  provide  a  lowly  house. 
God  comes  to  the  humble  manger, 
While  to  the  great  house  a  stranger.        G. 

XCIIL 

Christus  circumcisus  ad  Pair  em. 
Has  en  primitias  nostrae.  Pater,  accipe  mortis ; 

Vitam  ex  quo  sumpsi,  vivere  dedidici. 
Ira,  Pater,  tua  de  pluvia  gustaverit  ista  : 

01  im  ibit  fluviis  hoc  latus  omne  suis. 
Tune  sitiat  licet  et  sitiat,  bibet  et  bibet  usque  : 

Tune  poterit  toto  fonte  superba  frui. 
Nunc  hastae  interea  possit  praeludere  culter : 

Indolis  in  poenas  spes  erit  ista  meae.1 

4  XCIV. 

In  Epiphaniam  Domini.   Matt.  ii.  2. 
Kon  solita  contenta  dies  face  lucis  Eoae, 

Ecce  micat  radiis  caesariata  novis. 
Persa  sagax,  propera  :  discurre  per  ardua  regum 
Tecta,  per  auratas  marmoreasque  donius  : 

i  For  Crashaw's  own  full  rendering  of  this  epigram,  see  our 
vol.  i.  pp.  48-9.    G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  95 

Quaere  6,  quae  intepuit  Keginae  purpura  partu ; 

Principe  vagitu  quae  domus  insonuit. 
Audin'  Persa  sagax  1    Qui  tanta  negotia  coelo 

Fecit,  Bethlemiis  vagiit  in  stabulis. 

The  Epiphany  of  our  Lord. 
Scorning  her  wonted  herald,  lo,  the  Day 
Now  decks  her  forehead  with  a  brighter  ray. 
Sage  Persian,  haste ;  ask  where  high  roofs  unfold 
Their  royal  wealth  of  marble  and  of  gold  ; 
In  what  rich  couch  an  Empress-mother  lies ; 
What  halls  have  heard  a  new-born  Prince's  cries. 
Wouldst  know,  sage  Persian  1    He  for  whom  Heaven 

keeps 
Such  festival,  in  Bethlehem's  manger  weeps.  CL. 

xcv. 

Ecce  quaerebamus  te,  &c.  Luc.  ii.  49. 

Te  quaero  misera,  et  quaero  :  tu  nunc  quoque  tractas 

Ees  Patris ;  Pater  est  unica  cura  tibi. 
Quippe  quod  ad  poenas  tantum  et  tot  nomina  mortis, 

Ad  luctum  et  lacrymas,  hei  mihi !  mater  ego. 

Lo,  we  have  sought  Thee,  &c. 
I  seek  Thee  mourning,  and  I  seek  again  : 

Thou  still  Thy  Father's  business  dost  attend ; 
And  me,  alas,  sad  mother  of  all  pain, 

Of  grief  and  tears,  Thou  surely  wilt  befriend.      G. 


96  EPIGRAMMATA  SACEA. 

XCVI. 
Aquae  in  vinum  versae.    Joan.  ii.  1-11. 

Unde  rubor  vestris,  et  non  sua  purpura  lymphis  1 
Quae  rosa  mirantes  tarn  nova  mutat  aquas  ? 

Numen,  convivae,  praesens  agnoscite  Numen  : 
Nympha  pudica  Deum  vidit,  et  erubuit.1 

Water  turned  into  wine. 

Whence  that  blush  upon  thy  brow, 

Fair  Nymph  of  the  waters,  now? 

Mark  the  glow  all  rosy-red 

Of  the  stream  astonied. 

All  the  guests  in  tumult  rush'd  : 

The  shy  Nymph  saw  her  God,  and  blush'd.  G. 

ANOTHEB  VEESION. 

Whence  to  your  waters  comes  the  glow  of  wine  ? 
What  strange  new  rose  their  mazed  streams  hath 

flush'd? 
Haste,4guests,  and  own  your  Visitant  divine ; 

For  the  chaste  Nymph  hath  seen  her  God,  and 

blush'd.  CL. 

1  Barksdale  thus  renders  one  couplet : 

'  See,  0  my  guests,  a  Deity  is  here : 
The  chast  nymph  saw  a  God,  and  blusht  for  fear.' 

For  Dryden's  and  others,  see  our  Essay  in  this  volume.     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  97 


Whence  comes  this  rose,  this  ruddy  colour  strange  ? 
"What  Hushes  new  the  wondering  water  change "? 
Mark,  mark,  gay  guests,  a  present  Deity  ! 
The  conscious  water  blush'd  its  God  to  see.  A. 

XCVII. 

Absenti  Centurionis  filio  Dominus  absens  medetur. 
Matt.  viii.  13. 

Quam  tacitis  inopina  salus  illabitur  alis  ! 

Alis  quas  illi  vox  tua,  Christe,  dedit. 
Quam  longas  vox  ista  manus  habet !  haec  medicina 

Absens  et  praesens  haec  medicina  fuit. 

The  Lord  at  a  distance  heals  the  absent  servant  of  the 
Centurion. 

Safety  unlook'd-for  !  silent  'light  the  wings 
Wherewith  Thy  voice,  0  Christ,  swift-healing  brings 
Far-reaching  hand  Thy  word  has,  and  Thou  healest 
Absent  and  present,  even  as  Thou  wiliest.  G. 

XCVIII. 

Quid  timidi  estis  ?  Marc.  iv.  40. 
Tanquam  illi  insanus  faceret  sua  fulmina  ventus ; 

Tanquam  illi  scopulos  norit  habere  fretum. 
Vos  vestri  scopuli,  vos  estis  ventus  et  unda  : 

Naufragium  cum  illo  qui  metuit,  meruit. 

VOL.  n.  h 


98  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Why  are  ye  so  fearful  ? 

As  if  to  Him  the  winds  their  thunder  threw; 
As  if  to  Him  hard  rocks  the  water  knew. 
Ye  are  your  rocks,  ye  are  your  wind  and  wave  : 
Shiprack  with  Him  who  fear,  deserve  to  have.       B. 

XCIX. 

Nunc  dimittis.  Luc.  ii.  29. 
Ite  mei,  quid  enim  ulterius,  quid  vultis,  ocelli  1 

Leniter  obductis  ite  superciliis. 
Immo  et  adhuc  et  adhuc,  iterumque  iterumque  videte; 

Accipite  haec  totis  lumina  luminibus. 
Jamque  ite ;  et  tutis  6  vos  bene  claudite  vallis  : 

Servate  haec  totis  lumina  luminibus. 
PrimuHi  est,  quod  potui  te,  Christe,  videre  :  secundum, 

Te  viso,  recta  jam  potuisse  mori.1 

Now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in  peace. 
Begone,  mine  eyes;  what  would  ye  see  beside? 
(lo  now  in  peace  'neath  darkening  brows  to  hide. 
Once  and  again,  and  yet  again;  behold ; 
With  one  long  gaze  His  beams  in  yours  enfold. 
Then  go,  and  guard  your  treasure  safe  from  foes, 
And  fast  in  yours  those  beams  of  His  enclose. 
To  look  on  Thee,  0  Christ,  this  first  have  I; 
Then,  having  look'd  on  Thee,  straightway  to  die.     CL. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  last  couplet : 
1  To  see  Christ  was  first  in  my  desire : 
Next,  having  seen  Thee,  forthwith  to  expire.' 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  99 

c. 

In  segetem  sacram.  Matt.  xiii.  24. 
Ecce  suam  implorat,  demisso  vertice,  falcem  : 

Tu  segeti  falcem  da,  Pater  alme,  suam. 
Tu  falcem  non  das  ?  messem  tu,  Christe,  moraris  ? 

Hoc  ipsum  falx  est ;  haec  mora  messis  erit. 

Good  seed  in  the  field. 

Its  sickle  it  implores  with  head  bow'd  low ; 

Its  sickle  on  the  corn-field,  Lord,  bestow. 

Eefusest  Thou  ?  The  harvest  dost  delay] 

The  sickle  this — hence  fuller  harvest-day.  G. 


CL 

Coepit  lacrymis  rigare  pedes  ejus,  et  eapillis  extergebat. 
Luc.  vii.  37. 

Unda  sacras  sordes  lambit  placidissima  :  flavae 
Lambit  et  hanc  undam  lucida  flamma  comae. 

Ilia  per  has  sordes  it  purior  unda ;  simulque 
Ille  per  has  lucet  purior  ignis  aquas. 

She  began  to  wash  His  feet  with  teares,  and  wipe  them  with  the 
haires  of  her  head. 

Her  eyes'  flood  lickes  His  feets'  faire  staine ; 

Her  hair's  flame  liekes  up  that  againe. 

This  flame  thus  quencht  hath  brighter  beames ; 

This  flood  thus  stained  fairer  streames.  CR. 


100  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING. 

With  placid  force  the  gentle  wave 

That  consecrated  dust  doth  lave, 

And  a  bright  flame  of  golden  hair 

Doth  lave  in  light  those  waters  fair. 

Purer  the  trickling  waters  shine 

Through  contact  with  that  dust  divine ; 

And  purer  through  the  waters'  flow 

That  flame  of  lucent  fire  doth  glow.  CL. 

CII. 

Quid  vis  tibifaciam?  Luc.  xviii.  41. 

Quid  volo,  Christe,  rogas  1  quippe  ah  volo,  Christe, 
videre  : 

Quippe  ad  te,  dulcis  Christe,  videre  volo. 
At  video,  fideique  oculis  te  nunc  quoque  figo  : 

Est  mihi,  quae  nunquam  est  non  oculata,  fides. 
Sed  quamvis  videam,  tamen  ah  volo,  Christe,  videre  : 

Sed  quoniam  video,  Christe,  videre  volo. 

4  What  seeJcest  that  I  do  to  thee  ? 

Askest,  0  Christ,  my  wish  1    My  Christ  I  wish  to  see 
To  see  Thee,  0  my  sweet  Christ,  to  see  Thee. 
But,  lo,  I  see ;  for  now  on  Thee  I  fix  faith's  eye, 
And  gazing  so,  dimness  and  darkness  fly. 
But  though  I  see,  yet,  ah,  my  Christ  I  wish  to  see ; 
And  since  I  see,  0  Christ,  I  would  see  Thee.         G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  101 

cm. 

Christus  mulieri  Canaaneae  dijficilior.  Matt.  xv.  21. 
Ut  pretium  facias  dono,  donare  recusas  : 

Usque  rogat  supplex,  tutamen  usque  negas. 
Hoc  etiam  donare  fuit,  donare  negare. 

Saepe  dedit  quisquis  saepe  negata  dedit. 

The  silence  of  Christ  to  the  woman  of  Canaan. 
That  He  a  gift  more  precious  might  bestow, 

While  she  implor'd,  discouragements  He  used. 
This  was  to  give  thus  not  to  give  ;  for,  lo, 

He  giveth  oft  who  gives  what's  oft  refused.1     G. 

CIV. 

Beatus  venter  et  ubera,  &c.  Luc.  ii.  27. 
Et  quid  si  biberet  Jesus  vel  ab  ubere  vestro  ? 

Quid  facit  ad  vestram,  quod  bibit  ille,  sitim  ] 
Ubera  mox  sua  et  hie,  6  quam  non  lactea  !  pandet ; 

E  nato  mater  turn  bibet  ipsa  suo. 

Blessed  be  the  paps  which  Thou  hast  sucked. 
Suppose  He  had  been  tabled  at  thy  teates, 
Thy  hunger  feeles  not  what  He  eates  : 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  inserts  an  anonymous  epigram  on 
the  same  subject  as  supra,  being  the  only  one  not  by  Crashaw 
in  the  volume.  It  is  as  follows :  '  40.  Mulier  Canaanitis.  Matt. 
15.  Femina  tarn  fortis,  &c. 

'  0  woman,  how  great  is  that  faith  of  thine ! 

Fides  more  than  a  grammar's  feminine.' 

In  another  application,  quaint  old  Dr.  Worship,  in  his  '  Earth 
raining  upon  Heaven'  (1614),  in  rebuking  the  unfeminine  bold 
ness  of  the  sex,  says,  'Harke  yee  grammarians:  Hie  mulier 
ere  long  will  be  good  Latin'  (pp.  5,  6).  G. 


102  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

He'l  have  His  teat  ere  long — a  bloody  one ; 

The  mother  then  must  suck  the  Son.  CR. 

CV. 

In  Christum  vitem.  Joan.  xv.  1. 
Ulnmm  vitis  amat,  quippe  est  et  in  arbore  flamma, 

Quam  fovet  in  viridi  pectore  blandus  amor  : 
Illam  ex  arboribus  cunctis  tu,  vitis,  amasti; 

Illam,  quaecunque  est,  quae  crucis  arbor  erat. 

Christ  the  true  Vine  (including  the  branches). 
The  vine  clings  lovingly  unto  the  elm ; 
Love's  flame  draws  thus  a  tree  within  its  realm  : 
But  most,  0  vine,  thou  lov'st,  whate'er  its  name, 
That  tree  from  which  the  cross  of  Calvary  came.      G. 

CVI. 

Vosflebitis  et  lamentabimlni.  Joan.  xvi.  20. 
Ergo  mihi  salvete  mei,  mea  gaudia,  luctus  : 

Quam  charum,  6  Deus,  est  hoc  mihi  flere  meum  ! 
Flerem,  ni  Herein  :  solus  tu,  dulcis  Jesu, 

Laetitiam  donas  tune  quoque  quando  negas. 
_»^- 

Verny  I  say  unto  you,  Yee  shall  weep  and  lament. 

Welcome,  my  griefe,  my  joy;  how  deare's 
To  me  my  legacy  of  teares  ! 
I'll  weepe  and  weepe,  and  will  therefore 
Weepe  'cause  I  can  weepe  no  more. 
Thou,  Thou,  deare  Lord,  even  Thou  alone, 

Giv'st  joy,  even  when  Thou  givest  none.  CR. 

N. 


EP1GRAMMATA  SACRA.  103 

CVII. 
In  gregem  Christi  Pastoris.  Joan.  x.  11. 

0  grex,  6  nimium  tanto  Pastore  beatus ; 

0  ubi  sunt  tanto  pascua  digna  grege  ? 

Ne  non  digna  forent  tanto  grege  pascua,  Christus 
Ipse  suo  est  Pastor,  pascuum  et  ipse  gregi. 

Christ  the  good  Shepherd. 

0  flock,  0  too  much  in  thy  Sheepherd  blest, 
Where  are  fields  worthy  thee  to  feed  and  rest  ? 
Lest  worthy  pastures  nowhere  should  be  found, 
Christ  is  to  thee  the  Sheepherd  and  the  ground.    B. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

0  flock,  in  your  great  Shepherd  all  too  blest, 
Where  shall  fit  pasturage  be  found  for  you  1 

That  His  fair  flock  may  ne'er  want  food  or  rest, 
Christ  is  the  Pastor  and  the  pasture  too.         CL. 

CVIII. 

In  vulnera  pendentis  Domini.  Matt,  xxviii.  26-53. 
Sive  oculos,  sive  ora  vocem  tua  vulnera ;  certe 

Undique  sunt  ora,  heu,  undique  sunt  oculi. 
Ecce  ora,  6  nimium  roseis  florentia  labris  ! 

Ecce  oculi,  saevis  ah  madidi  lacrymis  ! 
Magdala,  quae  lacrymas  solita  es,  quae  basia  sacro 

Ferre  pedi,  sacro  de  pede  sume  vices. 
Ora  pedi  sua  sunt,  tua  quo  tibi  basia  reddat : 

Quo  reddat  lacrymas  scilicet  est  oculus.1 

1  For  Crashaw's  own  rendering  of  this  epigram  or  poein, 
see  our  vol.  i.  pp.  50-1.    G. 


104  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

On  the  wounds  of  the  crucified  Lord. 
Thy  wounds,  0  Lord,  are  months  and  eyes — 
Let  not  the  strange  words  breed  surprise  : 
Where'er  I  look,  wounds  seem  to  speak; 
Where'er  I  look,  wounds  in  tears  break ; 
Mouths  with  ruddy  lips  dispa'rted, 
Eyes  as  of  the  broken-hearted. 
Thou,  Mary,  on  His  sacred  feet 
Kainedst  thy  tears  and  kisses  sweet. 
Now  retake  thy  kisses,  tears  ; 
Cling  thee  there,  there  hush  thy  fears. 
See.  mouths  and  eyes  are  here  also ; 
Swift  they'll  pay  back  thy  loving  woe.  G. 

CIX. 
Paralyticus  convalescens.  Marc.  ii.  1-13. 

Christum,  quod  misero  facilis  peccata  remittit, 
Scribae  blasphemum  dicere  non  dubitant. 

Hoc  scelus  ut  primum  Paralyticus  audiit :  ira 
Impd'tiens,  lectum  sustulit  atque  abiit. 

The  paralytic  healed. 

The  Scribes  audaciously  blaspheme  the  Lord, 

That  He  a  poor  man  pardon'd  with  a  word. 

The  Paralytic  hears  all  that  they  say; 

Indignant  takes  his  bed,  and  walks  away.  G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  105 

ex. 

Tune  sustulerunt  lapides.  Joan.  viii.  59. 
Saxa  ?  illi  ?  quid  tarn  foedi  voluere  furores  ? 

Quid  sibi  de  saxis  hi  voluere  suis  ? 
Indolem,  et  antiqui  agnosco  vestigia  patris  : 

Panem  de  saxis  hi  voluere  suis. 

Then  took  they  up  stones. 

1  They  took  up  stones :'  What  meant  they  by  such  rage  1 
What  wanted  they  with  them?     Their  meaning's 

plain: 
'Tis  their  old  father's  way — 0  sad  presage  ! 

He  too  took  up  the  stones  for  bread  amain.1       G. 

CXI. 

In  resurrectionem  Domini.   Matt,  xxviii.  6. 
Nasceris,  en,  tecumque  tuus,  Eex  auree,  mundus, 

Tecuin2  virgineo  nascitur  e  tumulo. 
Tecum  in  natales  properat  natura  secundos, 

Atque  novam  vitam  te  novus  orbis  habet. 
Ex  vita,  Sol  alme,  tua  vitam  omnia  sumunt : 

Nil  certe,  nisi  mors,  cogitur  inde  mori. 
At  certe  neque  mors  :  nempe  ut  queat  ilia  sepulchro, 

Christe,  tuo  condi,  mors  volet  ipsa  mori. 

On  the  Resurrection  of  the  Lord. 

Thou'rt  born,  and,  lo,  bright  King,  Thy  world  is  born, 
Is  born  with  Thee  from  virgin  tomb  this  morn. 

1  Cf.  St.  Matt.  iv.  3.     G. 

2  Joan.  xix.  41.  Iv  £  ouSeVw  ouSels  ere'07j.     CB. 


106  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Hastes  Nature  to  its  second  day  of  birth, 

And  a  new  life  in  Thee  crowns  a  new  earth. 

Dear  Sun,  from  Thy  life  all  things  draw  life's  breath ; 

Nought  thence  is  forced  to  die,  save  only  Death. 

Nor  is  Death  forced — since  in  Thy  grave  to  lie, 

Death  will  itself,  0  Christ,  be  glad  to  die.       R.  Wi. 

CXII. 

Aliqui  vero  dubitabant.    Matt,  xxviii.  17. 
Scilicet  et  tellus  dubitat,1  tremebunda  :  sed  ipsum  hoc, 

Quod  tellus  dubitat,  vos  dubitare  vetat. 
Ipsi  custodes  vobis,  si  quaeritis,  illud 

Hoc  ipse  dicunt,2  dicere  quod  nequeunt. 

But  some  doubted. 

Earth,  quaking,  wavers  :  if  that  fact  be  true, 
The  wavering  earth  forbids  you  waver  too. 
The  very  keepers,  if  their  voice  you  seek, 
Though  speechless,  even  by  their  silence  speak.  R.  "Wi. 

CXIII. 

In  vulnerum  vestigia  quae  ostendit  Dominus,  adfirmandam 
suorumfidem.    Joan.  xx.  20. 

His  oculis,  nee  adhuc  clausis  coiere  fenestris, 

Invigilans  nobis  est  tuus  usus  amor. 
His  oculis  nos  cernit  amor  tuus  :  his  et  amorem, 

Christe,  tuum  gaudet  cernere  nostra  fides. 

1  Ver.  2.  fffifffjibs  tyevero  peyas.     CR. 

2  Ver.  4.  fffei<r6r]<Tav  ol  rijpovvrfs,  /cat  lyevorro  w<rci  VfKpoi.    GR. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  107 

The  scars  of  the  wounds  which  the  Lord  showed  to  the  strength 
ening  of  His  disciples'  faith. 

Thy  love  these  eyes  did  open ; 

They're  watching  for  us  still : 
These  eyes,  of  love  the  token, 

Our  faith  with  love  do  fill.  G. 

CXIV. 

Mittit  Joannes  qui  quaerant  a  Christo,  an  is  sit.  Lnc.  vii.  19. 
Tu  qui  adeo  impatiens  properasti  agnoscere  Christum, 

,Tunc  cum  claustra  uteri  te  tenuere  tui, 
Tu,  quis  sit  Christus,  rogitas  1  et  quaeris  ab  ipso  ? 
Hoc  tibi  vel  mutus  dicere  quisque  potest.1 

John  sends  to  Jesus  .  .  .  saying,  Art  Thou  He  that  should  come? 
or  look  we  for  another? 

And  dost  thou  ask,  who  in  thy  mother's  womb 
So  eager  wast  to  hail  Messiah  come  ? 
Thou  ask,  and  of  Himself,  if  Christ  He  be? 
Why,  even  the  very  dumb  can  answer  thee.          CL. 

cxv. 

In  Petrum  auricidam.   Joan,  xviii.  10. 
Quantumcunque  ferox  tuus  hie,  Petre,  fulminat  ensis, 

Tu  tibi  jam  pugnas,  6  bone,  non  Domino. 
Scilicet  in  miseram  furis  implacidissimus  aurem, 

Perfidiae  testis  ne  queat  esse  tuae. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  renders  the  closing  couplet  thus  : 
'  Is  He  the  Christ  ?    And  the  inquiry  is 
Of  Himself?  Why,  the  dumb  can  answer  this.' 


108  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

On  St.  Peter  cutting  off  Malchus  his  eare. 
Well,  Peter,  dost  thou  wield  thy  active  sword ; 
Well  for  thyselfe,  I  meane,  not  for  thy  Lord. 
To  strike  at  eares  is  to  take  heed  there  bee 
No  witnesse,  Peter,  of  thy  perjury.  CR. 

CXVI. 

Manus  arefacta  sanatur.    Marc.  iii.  1-5. 

Felix,  ergo  tuae  spectas  natalia  dextrae, 
Quae  modo  spectanti  flebile  funus  erat ! 

Quae  nee  in  externos  modo  dextera  profuit  usus, 
Certe  erit  ilia  tuae  jam  manus  et  fidei.1 

The  withered  hand  healed. 

0  happy  man,  thy  right-hand's  birth  beholding, 
Erewhile  a  sad  funereal  sight  enfolding  ! 
The  hand  of  no  use,  by  the  word  Christ  saith, 
Restor'd,  is  now  become  the  hand  of  faith.     G.  &  B. 

4  CXVII. 

In  Pentium  male  lautum.   Matt,  xxvii.  24. 

Ilia  manus  lavat  unda  tuas,  vanissime  judex  : 

Ah  tamen  ilia  scelus  non  lavat  unda  tuum  ! 
Nulla  scelus  lavet  unda  tuum  :  vel  si  lavet  ulla, 

0  volet  ex  oculis  ilia  venire  tuis. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  renders  the  latter  couplet.     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  109 

To  Pontius  washing  his  hands. 

Thy  hands  are  washt ;  but,  0,  the  water's  spilt 

That  labour'd  to  have  washt  thy  guilt : 

The  flood,  if  any  can,  that  can  suffice, 

Must  have  its  fountaine  in  thine  eyes.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VEESION. 

The  unjust  judge  washt  his  hands  at  the  time  : 

Ah,  but  no  water  can  wash  out  thy  crime. 

No  water  washt  it  out :  if  any  will, 

'Tis  that  which  must  from  thy  owne  eyes  distil.     B. 

CXVIII. 

In  piscem  dotatum.  Matt.  xvii.  27. 

Tu  piscem  si,  Christe,  velis,  venit  ecce,  suumque 

Fert  pretium  :  tanti  est  vel  periisse  tibi. 
Christe,  foro  tibi  non  opus  est ;  addicere  nummos 
opus  est :  ipsum  se  tibi  piscis  emet. 

The  stater-giving  fish. 
A  fish  Thou  wishest,  Lord ; 
And  without  e'er  a  word, 
Behold,  it  swims  to  Thee, 
Fetching  its  own  cost,  free. 
Thou  needest  not  to  go 
In  markets  to  and  fro ; 
Nor  need'st  Thou  price  to  bring — 
The  fish  owns  Thee  its  king.  G. 


110  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

CXIX. 

Ego  vici  mundum.  Joan.  xvi.  33. 
Tu  contra  mundum  dux  es  meus,  optime  Jesu  ? 

At  tu,  me  miserum  !  dux  meus  ipse  jaces. 
Si  tu,  dux  meus,  ipse  jaces,  spes  ulla  salutis  1 
Immo,  ni  jaceas  tu,  mihi  nulla  salus. 

I  have  overcome  the  world. 
Jesus,  my  Captain,  give  me  victories  ! 
Alas,  Jesus  Himself,  my  Captain,  dies. 
And  if  my  Captain  fall,  what  hope  have  I  ? 
No  hope  at  all,  unless  my  Captain  die.  B. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Art  Thou  my  Chief,  best  Lord,  against  the  foe  ? 
But  Thou,  my  Chief,  me  wretched  !  liest  low. 
If  Thou,  my  Chief,  liest  low,  what  help  for  me  1 
Nay,  if  Thou  liest  not  low,  no  help  can  be.  A. 

cxx. 

In  ascensionem  Dominicam.   Act.  i.  10. 
Vadit,  jo,  per  aperta  sui  penetralia  coeli : 

It  coelo,  et  coelum  fundit  ab  ore  novum. 
Spargjtur  ante  pedes,  et  toto  sidere  pronus 

Jam  propius  solis  sol  bibit  ora  sui. 
At  fratri  debere  negans  sua  lumina  Phoebe, 

Aurea  de  Phoebo  jam  meliore  redit. 
Hos,  de  te  victo,  tu  das,  Pater,  ipse  triumphos  : 

Unde  triumphares,  quis  satis  alter  erat  1 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  Ill 

On  the  ascension  of  our  Lord. 

Through  open'd  depths  of  His  own  heaven  He  soars, 
And  from  His  face  in  heaven  a  new  heaven  pours. 
Scatter'd  before  Him  down  the  welkin  sinks 
The  sun,  and  its  own  sun's  near  glory  drinks. 
Moon  unto  sun  for  light  no  more  beholden, 
Now  from  more  lustrous  sun  returns  all  golden. 
These  triumphs  o'er  Thyself  Thou  grantest,  Lord  ; 
Triumphs  no  other  could  suffice  to  'accord.       R.  "Wi. 

CXXI. 

In  descensum  Spiritus  Sancti.  Act.  ii. 
Jam  coeli  circum  tonuit  fragor  :  arma  minasque 

Turbida  cum  flammis  mista  ferebat  hiems. 
Exclamat  Judaeus  atrox  :  Yenit  ecce  nefandis, 

Ecce  venit  meriti  fulminis  ira  memor. 
Verum  ubi  composito  sedit  fax  blandior  astro, 

Flammaque  non  laesas  lambit  arnica  comas  ; 
Judaeis,  fulmen  quia  falsum  apparuit  esse, 

Hoc  ipso  verum  nomine  fulmen  erat. 


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"Ep&uas  rjjf  opyqi;  rb  vpenov  ofyawj;. 
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on  ya.%  xilvoig  oux  fav 
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112  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

The  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Booms  the  thunder  through  the  sky, 

Flash  the  lightnings,  threats  the  storm ; 
Cries  the  Jew  with  vengeful  eye : 

See  SIN  doom'd  in  fitting  form  ! 
But,  lo,  the  lightning,  paled  to  light 

Mild  and  calm  as  ev'ning's  star, 
Binds  their  brows  with  nimbus  bright, 

Playing  softly  i'  their  hair. 
To  the  Jews  it  is  not  lightning, 
Yet  the  more  the  name's  enlightening.1  G. 

CXXII. 

Sic  dilexit  mundum  Deus,  utFilium  morti  traderet.  Joan.  iii.  16. 

Ah  nimis  est,  ilium  nostrae  vel  tradere  vitae  : 
Guttula  quod  faceret,  cur  facit  oceanus  1 

Unde  et  luxuriare  potest,  habet  hinc  mea  vita  : 
Ample  et  magnifice  mors  habet  unde  mori. 

God  so  l6ved  the  world,  that  He  gave  His  only-begotten  Son. .  .  . 

Ah,  'tis  too  much  to  give  Him  for  our  sake : 

A  drop  might  serve,  why  then  an  ocean  take  1 

Here  may  my  life  expatiate  gloriously — 

Amply,  magnificently,  Death  may  die.  E.  Wi. 

i  Or— To  the  Jews  it  is  not  fire, 

Yet  the  name  best  tells  Heav'n's  ire.     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  113 

CXXIII. 

Juga  bourn  emi.  Luc.  xiv.  19. 
Ad  coenam  voco  te,  domini  quod  jussa  volebant; 

Tu  mihi,  nescio  quos,  dicis,  inepte,  boves. 
Imo  vale,  nobis  nee  digne  nee  utilis  hospes ; 

Coena  tuos,  credo,  malit  habere  boves. 

I  have  bought  Jive  yoke  of  oxen. 
I  call  thee  to  His  Supper, 

for  so  The  Master  spake  : 
Thou  sayest  '  No,'  pretending 

thou  must  thy  oxen  take. 
Farewell,  0  thou  unworthy 

and  wholly  useless  guest ; 
Thy  oxen  for  the  Supper 

in  truth  were  better  prest.  G. 

CXXIV. 

D.  Paulum,  verbo  sanantem  claudum,  pro  Mercurio  Lystres 
adorant.  Act.  xiv.  8-18. 

Quis  Tagus  hie,  quae  Pactoli  nova  volvitur  unda  ? 

Non  hominis  vox  est  haec  :  Deus  ille,  Deus. 
Salve,  mortales  nimium  dignate  penates  : 

Digna  Deo  soboles,  digna  tonante  Deo. 
O  salve,  quid  enim,  alme,  tuos  latuisse  volebas  1 

Te  dicit  certe  vel  tua  lingua  Deum. 
Laudem  hanc  haud  miror  :  meruit  facundus  haberi, 

Qui  claudo  promptos  suasit  habere  pedes. 

VOL.  n.  i 


114  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

St.  Paul,  healing  the  lame  man  with  a  word,  is  worshipped  by 
the  Lystrians  as  Mercury. 

What  Tagus,  what  Pactolus  here  is  rolled  ? 

"Tis  not  man's  voice  :  a  God,  a  God  "behold. 

Hail,  too  much  honour  thou  to  men  hast  done, 

Of  Jove,  of  thundering  Jove  the  worthy  son. 

Hail,  Lord,  for  why  wouldst  hide  thee  from  thine  own? 

A  God  e'en  by  thy  tongue  assuredly  art  known. 

The  praise  of  eloquence  for  him  was  meet 

Who  could  persuade  the  lame  to  use  swift  feet.    R.  Wi. 

cxxv. 

In  S.  Columbam  ad  Christi  caput  sedentem. 
Cui  sacra  siderea  volucris  suspenditur  ala  ] 

Hunc  nive  plus  niveum  cui  dabit  ilia  pedem  ? 
Christe,  tuo  capiti  totis  se  destinat  auris, 

Qua  ludit  densae  blandior  umbra  comae. 
Illic  arcano  quid  non  tibi  murmure  narrat, 

Murmure  mortales  non  imitante  sonos? 
Sola  avis  haec  nido  hoc  non  est  indigna  cubare  : 

Solus  nidus  hie  est  hac  bene  dignus  ave.1 

4 
TL?I  r^uipyog  aysi  nrepuy  dffrspfeaffav 

VH  TIVI  M?va  p'spst  rqv  woda, 
reft  xttpa^fi  vdffa 
ffxid  TOI  dotfflois  val^e  paXa,  n 


Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  last  couplet: 
'  Most  worthy  nest  this  for  the  Bird  above  ; 
Most  worthy  of  this  nest  is  th'  holy  Dove.'   G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  115 


Ilo/a  aoi  ajioyru  •\J//$y£/V/ttar/  xg/i/'  uyopivii  ; 

'Ageqr',  ovx.  %•)$<;  Tffa  {tsv  avdgofAfijf. 
Mouvct,  /ASV  ijb'  opvig  xaX/ag  ear*  a|j/a  r 

'  A%ia,  5*  opviQof  fAouva,  ftsv  TJ  xaX/a. 


To  the  sacred  Dove  alighting  on  the  head  of  Christ. 
On  whom  doth  this  blest  Bird  its  wings  outspread? 

Where  will  it  suffer  its  white  feet  to  rest  ? 
0  Jesus,  hovering  o'er  Thy  hallow'd  head, 

Within  Thy  hair's  sweet  shade  it  seeks  a  nest. 
There  does  it  breathe  a  mystic  song  to  Thee, 

A  melody  unlike  all  earthly  sound  : 
That  Bird  alone  to  this  pure  nest  may  flee  ; 

This  nest  alone  worthy  the  Bird  is  found.       W. 

CXXVI. 

In  fores  divo  Petro  sponte  apertas.  Act.  xii.  10. 
Quid  juvit  clausisse  fores,  bone  janitor,  istas  ? 

Et  Petro  claves  jam  liquet  esse  suas. 
Dices,  sponte  patent  :  Petri  ergo  hoc  scilicet  ipsum 

Est  clavis,  Petro  clave  quod  haud  opus  est. 

The  doors  of  the  prison  self-opening  to  Peter. 
Good  jailor,  how  is  this, 

These  doors  thou  lockest  here  I 
That  Peter  has  the  keys 

'Tis  now  to  all  men  clear. 


116  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Thou  say'st  the  doors  self-open, 
And  well  thou  sayest  indeed; 

For  by  this  very  token 

He  no  other  key  doth  need.  G. 

CXXVII. 

Murmurabant  Pharisaei,  dicentes,  Recipit  peccatores,  et  comedit 
cum  illis.  Luc.  xv.  2. 

Ah  male,  quisquis  is  est,  pereat,  qui  scilicet  istis 

Convivam,  saevus,  non  sinit  esse  suum ! 
Istis  cum  Christus  conviva  adjungitur,  istis 

0  non  conviva  est  Christus,  at  ipse  cibus.1 

The  Pharisees  murmured,  saying,  This  man  receiveth  sinners, 
and  eateth  with  them. 

Ah,  let  him  perish  in  his  harsh  protests 

Who  sinners  checks  to  be  the  Saviour's  guests ! 

Sinners  do  entertain  Christ  as  a  guest : 

They  spread  the  table,  but  He  is  the  feast.      G.  &  B. 

4  CXXVIII. 

In  trabem  Pharisaicam.  Matt.  vii.  3. 

Cedant,  quae,  rerum  si  quid  tenue  atque  minutum  est, 

Posse  acie  certa  figere,  vitra  dabunt. 
Artia  opus  rnirae  !  Pharisaeo  en  optica  trabs  est, 

Ipsum,  vera  loquor,  qua  videt  ille  nihil. 

1  Barkedale,  as  before,  renders  the  latter  couplet.     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  117 

On  the  beam  of  the  Pharisee. 
Grant  you  can  fix  upon  a  needle's  end 
Each  smallest  object  microscopes  will  lend. 
Eare  beam  to  look  through  has  the  Pharisee, 
Whereby,  in  sooth,  nothing  itself  sees  he  !        R.  Wi. 

CXXIX. 

Constituerunt  ut  si  quis  confiteretur  eum  esse  Christum,  synagoga 
moveretur.  Joan.  ix.  22. 

Infelix,  Christum  reus  es  quicunque  colendi ; 

0  reus  infelix,  quam  tua  culpa  gravis  ! 
Tu  summis  igitur,  summis  damnabere  coelis  : 

0  reus  infelix,  quam  tua  poena  gravis  ! 

They  determined  that  if  any  man  should  confess  Him  to  be 
Christ,  he  should  be  put  out  of  the  synagogue. 

Alas,  unhappy,  own  the  Christ  thou  wilt ; 
Unhappy  culprit,  fearful  is  thy  guilt. 
The  gates  of  heaven  for  aye  should  keep  thee  close  : 
Unhappy  culprit,  fearful  are  thy  woes.  A. 

cxxx. 

De  votojiliorum  Zebedaei.  Matt.  xx.  20. 
Sit  tibi,  Joannes,  tibi  sit,  Jacobe,  quod  optas ; 

Sit  tibi  dextra  manus ;  sit  tibi  laeva  manus. 
Spero  alia  in  coelo  est,  et  non  incommoda,  sedes ; 

Si  neque  laeva  manus,  si  neque  dextra  manus. 
Coeli  hanc  aut  illam  nolo  mihi  quaerere  partem ; 

0  coelum,  coelum  da,  Pater  alme,  mihi. 


118  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Concerning  the  prayer  of  the  sons  ofZebedee. 

0  brothers  twain,  may  it  be  yours  to  fill 
At  right  and  left  your  places  as  ye  will ! 
A  seat  remains,  I  trust — a  fair  one  too — 
Besides  those  high  ones  that  were  sought  for  you. 

1  pray  not  that  to  me  some  part  be  given, 

But  heaven  itself,  kind  Father,  grant  me  heaven.      CL. 

ANOTHER  VEKSION. 

John  and  James,  take  your  place  at  God's  command  : 

One  at  the  right,  th'  other  at  the  left  hand. 

I  ask  not  to  be  placed  so,  or  so  : 

To  heaven,  to  heaven,  good  Father,  let  me  go.  B. 

CXXXI. 

Ad  hospites  cocnae  miraculosae  quinque  panum.  Joan.  vi.  9-13. 

Vescere  pane  tuo,  sed  et,  hospes,  vescere  Christo ; 

Et  panis  pani  scilicet  ille  tuo. 
Tune  pane  hoc  Christi  recte  satur,  hospes,  abibis, 

Panem  ipsum  Christum  si  magis  esurias.1 

To  the  guests  at  the  miraculous  supper  of  the  Jive  loaves. 
Feed  on  4hy  bread,  on  Christ  too  feed,  0  guest ; 
With  Bread  on  bread  forsooth  thou  shalt  be  blest. 
Then  shalt  thou  go,  with  Christ's  bread  satisfied, 
If  hungering  for  the  living  Bread  beside.  K.  Wi. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  latter  couplet : 
*  These  loaves  of  Christ  are  well  bestow'd:  if  fed 
With  these,  they  hunger  after  living  bread.'     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  119 

CXXXII. 

De  Christi  contra  mundum  pugna.  Joan.  xvi.  33. 
Tune,  miser,  tu,  mundus  ait,  mea  fulmina  contra 

Ferre  manus,  armis  cum  tibi  nuda  maims  ? 
I,  lictor,  manibusque  audacibus  injice  vinc'la  : 

Injecit  lictor  vincula,  et  arma  dedit. 

Christ  overcoming  the  world. 

0  wretched  !  the  world  mutters.     I  do  wonder 
Thou  dar'st  lift  unarm'd  hands  against  my  thunder. 
Go,  tyrant ;  put  thy  chains  upon  these  hands  : 
'Tis  done ;  and  now  full-arm'd  the  prisoner  stands.    G. 

CXXXIII. 

Graeci  disputatores'  divo  Paulo  mortem  machinantur.  Act.  ix.  29. 
Euge,  argumentum  !  sic  disputat :  euge,  sophista  ! 

Sic  pugnum  Logices  stringere,  sic  decuit. 
Hoc  argumentum  in  causam  quid,  Graecule,  dicit  ? 

Dicit,  te  in  causam  dicere  posse  nihil.1 

The  Grecian  disputants  go  about  to  kill  St.  Paul. 
0  noble  argument,  Sophister  rare! 
Thus  Logic's  fist  to  double  be  your  care. 
This  argument,  poor  Greek,  what  does  it  weigh  ? 
It  says  that  you  have  nought  at  all  to  say.         E.  Wi. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  latter  couplet: 

'  By  your  opposing  force,  Greeks,  what  is  meant? 
That  you  have  no  convincing  argument.'     G. 


120  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

CXXXIV. 

Qui  maximus  est  inter  vos,  esto  sicut  qui  minimus.  Luc.  xxii.  26. 
O  bone,  discipulus  Christ!  vis  maximus  esse  1 

At  vero  fies  hac  ratione  minor. 
Hoc  sanctae  ambitionis  iter,  mihi  crede,  tenendum  est, 

Haec  ratio  :  Tu,  ne  sis  minor,  esse  velis. 
He  that  is  greatest  among  you,  let  Mm  be  as  the  younger. 
The  greatest  of  disciples  wouldst  thou  be  1 
Whoever's  so  ambitious,  less  is  he. 
That  thou  mai'st  not  go  less,  to  every  one 
Submit:  this,  this  is  Christ's  ambition.  B. 

cxxxv. 

In  lacrymantem  Dominum.  Luc.  xix.  41. 
Vobis,  Judaei,  vobis  haec  volvitur  unda ; 

Quae  vobis,  quoniam  spernitis,  ignis  erit. 
Eia  faces,  Romane,  faces  !  seges  ilia  furoris, 

Non  nisi  ab  his  undis,  ignea  messis  erit. 

He  beheld  the  city,  and  loept  over  it. 
For  you,  0  Jews,  is  roll'd  this  tearful  tide, 
Which  as  a  flame  shall  glow,  since  ye  deride. 
Torches,  Rome's  torches — those  wild- waving  ears 
A  fiery  (frop  shall  prove,  fed  by  these  tears.       R.  Wi. 

CXXXVI. 

Christus  in  Aegypto.  Matt.  ii.  19-21. 
Hunc  tu,  Nile,  tuis  majori  flumine  monstra ; 

Hunc,  mmis  ignotum,  die  caput  esse  tibi. 
Jam  tibi,  Nile,  tumes ;  jam  te  quoque  multus  inunda : 

Ipse  tuae  jam  sis  laetitiae  fluvius. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  121 

Christ  in  Egypt. 

With  prouder  stream,  Nile,  show  Him  to  thine  own ; 
Call  Him  thy  fountain-head,  too  little  known  : 
Now  swelling  for  thyself,  thyself  o'erflo w ; 
And  with  its  own  joy  let  thy  current  glow.       E.  Wi. 

CXXXVII. 

In  caecos  Christum  confitentes,  Pharisaeos  abnegantes. 
Matt.  ix.  27-31. 

Ne  mihi  tu,  Pharisaee  ferox,  tua  lumina  jactes  : 
En  caecus  !  Christum  caecus  at  ille  videt. 

Tu,  Pharisaee,  nequis  in  Christo  cernere  Christum  : 
Ille  videt  caecus ;  caecus  es  ipse  videns.1 

The  blind  confessing  Christ,  the  Pharisees  denying. 
Cast  not  thine  eyes  on  me,  proud  Pharisee, 
Lo,  this  blind  man,  though  blind,  yet  Christ  can  see. 
Thou,  Pharisee,  canst  not  in  Christ  Christ  find]; 
The  blind  man  sees  Him,  and  the  seer's  blind.   G.  &  B. 

CXXXVIIL 

Si  quis  pone  me  veniet,  tollat  crucem  et  sequatur  me. 
Matt.  xvi.  24. 

Ergo  sequor,  sequor,  en,  quippe  et  mihi  crux  mea,  Christe, 

est: 

Parva  quidem ;  sed  quam  non  satis,  ecce,  rego. 
rego?  non  parvam  hanc1?  ideo  neque  parva  putanda 

est. 

Crux  magna  est,  parvam  non  bene  ferre  crucem. 
1  Barksdale,  as  before,  renders  the  latter  couplet.     G. 


122  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

If  any  man  will  come  after  Me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take 
up  his  cross  and  follow  Me. 

Therefore  I  follow,  lo,  I  follow  on ; 

My  cross  is  with  me,  yet  not  rightly  worn. 
It  little  is  compar'd  with  Thine,  I  own ; 

Yet  little  is  not  being  wrongly  borne.  G. 

CXXXIX. 

Relictis  omnibus  sequutus  est  eum.  Luc.  v.  28. 

Quas  Matthaeus  opes,  ad  Christi  jussa,  reliquit ; 

Turn  prinrnm  vere  coepit  habere  suas.1 
Iste  malarum  est  usus  opum  bonus,  unicus  iste ; 

Esse  malas  homini,  quas  bene  perdat,  opes. 

And  he  left  all  .  .  .  and  followed  Him. 
To  be  rich,  truly  rich,  Matthew  did  take 
The  right  way,  when  he  left  all  for  Christ's  sake. 
This  is  the  one  good  use  of  ill-got  wealth ; 
For  ill-got  'tis  which,  leaving,  bringeth  health.    B.  &  G. 

4  CXL. 

Aedificatis  sepulchra  Prophetarum.  Matt,  xxiii.  29. 

Sanctorum  in  tumulis  quid  vult  labor  ille  colendis  1 
Sanctorum  mortem  non  sinit  ille  mori. 

Yane,  Prophetarum  quot  ponis  saxa  sepulchris, 
Tot  testes  lapidum,  queis  periere,  facis. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  renders  the  opening  couplet.     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  123 

Ye  build  the  sepulchres  of  the  Prophets. 
Thou  trim'st  a  Prophet's  tombe,  and  dost  bequeath 
The  life  thou  took'st  from  him  unto  his  death. 
Vain  man !  the  stones  that  on  his  tombe  doe  lye 
iKeepe  but  the  score1  of  them  that  made  him  dye.    CR. 

ANOTHEB  VEBSION. 

What  means  this  labour  on  the  tombs  of  saints, 
Causing  their  holy  memory  be  cherish'd  ? 

Vain  men  !  each  stone  which  consecrates  their  plaints 
Doth  tell  us  of  the  stones  by  which  they  perish'd. 

G. 

CXLI. 

In  manum  aridam  qua  Christo  mota  est  miseratio. 
Marc.  iii.  3-5. 

Prende,  miser,  Christum;  et  cum  Christo  prende  salu- 

tem : 

At  manca  est,  dices,  dextera  :  prende  tamen. 
Ipsum  hoc,  in  Christum,  manus  est :  hoc  prendere  Chris 
tum  est, 
Qua  Christum  prendas,  non  habuisse  manum. 

The  man  with  the  withered  hand,  who  excited  Christ's 
compassion. 

Take  hold  of  Christ,  0  wretched  one, 
And  with  Christ  take  salvation. 
But  thy  right  hand,  thou  say'st,  is  dead ; 
Yet  take  thee  hold  :  His  word  is  said. 

1  =  reckoning  or  debt  to  be  paid.     G. 


124  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Take  hold  of  Christ  e'en  without  hand; 

Then  safe  in  Christ,  and  well,  thou'lt  stand  : 

Take  hold  of  Christ  in  simple  faith  ; 

This  will  be  hand  to  thee,  He  saith.  G. 

CXLIL 

Ad  D.  Lucam  medicum.  Coloss.  iv.  14. 

Nulla  mini,  Luca,  de  te  medicamina  posco, 
Ipse  licet  medicus  sis,  licet  aeger  ego  : 

Quippe  ego  in  exempluin  fidei  dum  te  mihi  pono, 
Tu,  medice,  ipse  mihi  es  tu  medicina  mea. 


Ovdzv  syUj  Aouxa,  <nracd  ffov  fjjOi  (pdo/Aaxov  a/Yw, 
ay  GU  d'  larpbg  spg,  /cav  ^ab  s-yu  voffspoz. 
sv  offu>  'xabddzi'y/Aoi  w$\£i£  />to/  'TriffTio^,  ay'roj, 
AVTOC  jarpbg  e/toi  y  sffot 


Luke  the  beloved  physician. 
No  medicine  of  thee,  0  Luke,  I  seek, 
Though  thou  art  a  physician,  and  I  sick  : 
Th'  example  of  thy  faith  before  my  eyen, 
To  me,  physician,  is  the  medicine.  B. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

To  St.  Luke  as  a  physician. 

No  medicine  will  I  crave,  Saint  Luke,  of  thee, 
Though  I  be  sick,  though  thou  physician  be  : 
Pattern  of  faith,  I  plant  thee  in  my  soul, 
And  thou  thyself  the  medicine  makest  me  whole.    A. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  125 

CXLIII. 

Hydropicus  sanatus,  Christum  jam  sitiens.  Luc.  xiv.  4. 
Pellitur  inde  sitis,  sed  et  liinc  sitis  altera  surgit; 

Hinc  sitit  ille  magis,  quo  sitit  inde  minus. 
Felix  6,  et  mortem  poterit  qui  temnere  morbus ; 

Cui  vitae  ex  ipso  fonte  sititur  aqua. 

The  dropsical  man  thirsting  now  for  Christ. 
Thy  dropsy's  quench'd,  but  other  thirst  now  rises, 

Which  craves  the  more,  the  less  the  former  thirsts. 
0  happy  malady,  which  death  despises  : 

Thirst  for  the  stream  which  from  life's  fountain 
bursts.  G. 

CXLIV. 

In  coetum  coelestem  omnium  Sanctorum. 
Felices  animae,  quas  coelo  debita  virtus 

Jam  potuit  vestris  inseruisse  polis  : 
Hoc  dedit  egregii  non  parcus  sanguinis  usus, 

Spesque  per  obstantes  expatiata  vias. 
0  ver,  6  longae  semper  seges  aurea  lucis ; 

Nocte  nee  alterna  dimidiata  dies ; 
0  quae  palma  manu  ridet,  quae  fronte  corona  ; 

0  nix  virgineae  non  temeranda  togae ; 
Pacis  inocciduae  vos  illic  ora  videtis  ; 

Yos  Agni  dulcis  lumina ;  vos — quid  ago  ? 

To  the  assembly  of  all  the  Saints. 
Thrice-happy  souls,  to  whom  the  prize  is  given, 
Whom  faith  and  truth  have  lifted  into  heaven : 


126  EPIGRAMMATA  SACKA. 

Gift  of  the  heavenly  Martyrs'  dying  breath, 
Gift  of  a  Faith  that  burst  the  gates  of  Death. 
0  Spring,  0  golden  harvest  of  glad  light ; 
Sweet  day,  whose  beauty  never  fades  in  night ; 
The  palm  blooms  in  each  hand,  the  garland  on  each  brow, 
The  raiment  glitters  in  its  undimm'd  snow ; 
The  regions  of  unfading  peace  ye  see, 
And  the  meek  brightness  of  the  Lamb  :  how  different 
from  me  I1  W. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Thrice-happy,  happy  souls,  to  you  heaven's  debt 

Is  paid ;  you  in  your  heavenly  spheres  are  set. 

Whence  this  to  you  ?  ah,  noble  blood  ye  shed, 

And  your  strong  faith  the  strong  world  buffeted. 

0  ever-ripening  harvest  of  long  light ; 

0  Spring,  0  day  not  halved  with  lingering  night ; 

0  hands  with  laughing  palms,  0  crowned  brows ; 

0  spotless  robes,  whiter  than  virgin  snows  ! 

The  beauteous  eyes  of  fadeless  Peace  ye  see — 

The  eyes  of  the  sweet  Lamb ;  yea — woe  is  me  !        A. 

CXLV. 

Christus  dbsenti  medetur.  Matt.  viii.  13. 
Vox  jam  missa  suas  potuit  jam  tangere  metas  ? 

0  superi,  non  hoc  ire  sed  isse  fuit. 
Mirac'lum  fuit  ipsa  salus,  bene  credere  possis, 

Ipsum,  mirac'lum  est,  quando  salutis  iter. 

1  By  an  oversight  Willmott  renders  ora  '  regions'  instead 
of  '  eyes. '    G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  127 

Christ  heals  in  absence. 

Came,  then,  His  voice  with  power,  Himself  unseen  ? 
Heavens  !  this,  though  not  to  go,  was  to  have  been. 
The  cure  miraculous  we  can  credit  well, 
When  the  mere  going  was  a  miracle.  CL. 

CXLVI. 

Caecus  natus.  Joan.  ix.  1,  2. 

Felix,  qui  potuit  tantae  post  nubila  noctis, 

0  dignurn  tanta  nocte,  videre  diem  : 
Felix  ille  oculus,  felix  utrinque  putandus, 

Quod  videt,  et  primum  quod  videt  ille  Deum. 

The  man  born  blind. 

Happy  the  man  who  was  endu'd  with  sight, 
And  saw  a  day  well  worth  so  long  a  night : 
Happy  the  eye,  twice  happy  is  the  eye, 
That  sees,  and  at  first  look,  a  Deity.  B. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Thrice-happy  eye,  that  after  such  dark  night — 
Day  worthy  night  so  dark — couldst  see  the  light : 
0  happy  eye,  eye  thrice  and  four  times  blest, 
At  once  to  ope,  and  upon  God  to  rest.  A. 

CXLVII. 

Et  ridebant  ilium.  Matt.  ix.  24. 

Luctibus  in  tantis,  Christum  ridere  vacabat  ? 
Vanior  iste  fuit  risus,  an  iste  dolor  ? 


128  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Luctibus  in  tantis  hie  vester  risus  inepti, 
Credite  mi,  meruit  maximus  esse  dolor. 

And  they  laughed  at  Him. 
Laughter  at  Christ  the  Saviour — 

Laughter  'mid  falling  tears  ! 
0,  which  show'd  greater  folly, 

Vain  laughter  or  vain  fears  *? 
Such  laughter  'mid  such  sorrow, 

0  fools,  ye  may  believe  : 
Such  laughter  in  such  Presence 

Gave  greatest  cause  to  grieve.  G. 

CXLVIII. 

In  sapientiam  seculi.  Matt.  xi.  25. 
Noli  altum  sapere,  hoc  veteres  voluere  magistri, 

Ne  retrahat  lassos  alta  ruina  gradus. 
Immo  mihi  dico,  Noli  sapuisse  profundum : 

Non  ego  ad  infernum  me  sapuisse  velim. 

The  wisdom  of  the  world. 

1  Aim  not  at  things  too  high,'  'twas  said  of  old, 
'  Lest  ruin  thence  o'ertake  thee,  over-bold.' 
For  me  to  dive  too  deep  I  think  not  well  : 
I  would  not  have  my  knowledge  deep  as  hell.      CL. 

CXLIX. 

In  stabulum  ubl  natus  est  Dominus. 
Ilia  domus  stabulum  ?  non  est,  Puer  auree,  non  est : 
Ilia  domus,  qua  tu  nasceris,  est  stabulum  ? 


BPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  129 

Ilia  domus  toto  domus  est  pulcherrima  mundo  ; 

Yix  coelo  dici  vult  minor  ilia  tuo.1 
Cernis  ut  ilia  suo  passim  domus  ardeat  auro  1 

Cernis  ut  effusis  rideat  ilia  rosis  ? 
Sive  aurum  non  est,  nee  quae  rosa  rideat  illic  ; 

Ex  oculis  facile  est  esse  probare  tuis. 

OJxo;  oft  ear  auX?j  ;  ov  {*%.  rile,  oJxoj,  ' 

"Ev  Q'  Co  ri)  n'xrfl  auX/ov  ou  Te'Xsra/ 
O/'xaiv  fitsv  ftdvruv  /aaXa  dr]  xaXX/oroj  e 

Ovpavov  ovde  rtov 
'Hvidi  KtTvo  vey  da/A 

'Hvide  XE/VO  vsoig 
"Hv  godov  ou^i  ysXa,  qv  o-Jde  re 

'Ex  ffov  5'  opdaXftuv  t<JTiv  e 


On  the  stable  where  our  Lord  was  born. 
That  house  a  stable  ]  nay,  bright  Infant,  nay  : 
Where  Thou  art  born  —  a  stable  do  we  say  ? 
Of  mansions  in  this  world  fairest  of  all, 
That  house  but  little  less  than  heaven  we  call. 
Seest  thou  that  house  with  golden  splendour  flush? 
Seest  thou  that  house  with  scatter'  d  roses  blush  ? 
There  is  no  gold,  no  rose  there  laughing  lies  : 
It  ia  the  light  that  falls  from  His  fair  eyes.         A. 

1  Barksdale  thus  renders  the  second  couplet: 

'  This  house  a  stable  !    No  :  Thy  blessed  birth, 
Jesus,  converts  it  to  a  heaven  on  earth.'    G. 

VOL.  II.  k 


130  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

CL. 

S.  Stephanus  amicis  suis,  funus  sibi  curantibus.  Act.  vii.  57-60. 

^N"ulla,  precor,  busto  surgant  mihi  marmora :  bustum 
Haec  mihi  sint  mortis  conscia  saxa  meae. 

Sic  nee  opus  fuerit,  notet  ut  quis  carmine  bustum, 
Pro  Domino,  dicens,  occidit  ille  suo. 

Hie  mihi  sit  tumulus,  quern  mors  dedit  ipsa ;  meique 
Ipse  hie  martyrii  sit  mihi  martyrium. 

St.  Stephen  to  his  friends,  to  raise  no  monument. 
I  pray  you,  raise,  my  friends,  no  tomb  for  me, 
But  let  these  conscious  stones  my  record  be ; 
ISfor  will  there  then  be  need  of  verse  to  tell 
That  here  for  his  dear  Lord  a  martyr  fell. 
That  which  brought  death,  a  tomb  shall  also  bring, 
And  be  the  witness  of  my  witnessing.  CL. 

CLI. 

In  D.  Joannem,  quern  Domitianus  ferventi  oleo  illaesum  indidit. 

Ilium  qui,  toto  currens  vaga  flammula  mundo, 
Non  quidem  Joannes,  ipse  sed  audit  amor — 

Ilium  ignem  extingui,  bone  Domitiane,  laboras  ? 
Hoc  non  est  oleum,  Domitiane,  dare.1 

4 
On  St.  John,  whom  Domitian  cast  into  a  caldron  of  boiling  oil, 

he  unhurt. 

That  fire — which  o'er  the  world  a  wandering  flame, 
Bears  not  the  name  of  John,  but  Love's  own  name — 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  closing  couplet : 
1  John  is  Christ's  flame ;  Domitian,  in  thine  ire, 
Canst  thou  e'er  hope  with  oil  to  extinguish  fire? '    G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  131 

To  quench,  my  good  Domitian,  dost  thou  toil  ? 

Fire  scarce  is  quench'd,  methinks,  by  adding  oil.    CL. 

CLII. 

In  tenellos  martyres. 
Ah,  qui  tarn  propero  cecidit  sic  funere,  vitae 

Hoc  habuit  tantum,  possit  ut  ille  mori. 
At  cujus  Deus  est  sic  usus  funere,  mortis 

Hoc  tantum,  ut  possit  vivere  semper,  habet. 

The  infant-martyrs. 
Fallen,  alas,  in  life's  most  tender  dawn, 

With  only  so  much  life  as  die  they  may. 
But  they  'gainst  whom  Death's  arrows  thus  are  drawn, 

Only  taste  death  that  they  may  live  for  aye.       G. 

CLIIL 

Attulerunt  ei  omnes  male  affectos  daemoniacos,  lunaticos :  et 
sanavit  eos.  Matt.  iv.  24. 

Collige  te  tibi,  torve  Draco,  furiasque  facesque, 
Quasque  vocant  pestes  nox  Erebusque  suas  : 

Fac  colubros  jam  tota  suos  tua  vibret  Erinnys ; 
Collige,  collige  te  fortiter,  ut  pereas. 

They  brought  unto  Him  all  sick  people  that  were  taken  with 
divers  diseases  and  torments,  and  those  which  were  possessed 
with  devils,  and  those  which  were  lunatick,  and  those  that 
had  the  palsy ;  and  He  healed  them. 

Gather  thy  powers,  grim  Dragon,  furies,  flames, 
All  plagues  which  Erebus  or  midnight  claims, 


132  EPIGRAMMATA  SACEA. 

Bid  each  Erinnys  high  her  serpents  flourish ; 
Bring  all,  bring  all,  that  thou  mayst  wholly  perish.1 

E.Wi. 
CLIV. 

Tuam  ipsius  animam  pertransibit  gladius.     Luc.  ii.  35. 
Quando  habeat  gladium  tua,  Christe,  tragoedia  nullum, 

Quis  fuerit  gladius,  Virgo  beata,  tuus  ? 
Namque  nee  ulla  alias  tibi  sunt  data  vulnera,  Virgo, 

Quam  quae  a  vulneribus  sunt  data,  Christe,  tuis. 
Forsan  quando  senex  jam  caligantior  esset, 

Quod  Simeon  gladium  credidit,  hasta  fuit. 
Immo  neque  hasta  fuit,  neque  clavus,  sed  neque  spina  : 

Hei  mihi,  spina  tamen,  clavus  et  hasta  fuit. 
Nam  queiscunque  malis  tua,  Christe,  tragoedia  crevit, 

Omnia  sunt  gladius,  Virgo  beata,  tuus. 

A  sword  shall  pierce  through  thy  own  soul. 
Since  in  the  tragedy 
Wrought  upon  Calvary, 
No  sword,  0  Christ,  hast  Thou, 
Whence,  then,  shall  come  the  blow 

To  Mary,  virgin-mother? 
Not  any^wounds  are  given, 
Save  as  her  Son  is  riven : 
No  sword,  0  Christ,  hast  Thou ; 
Whence,  then,  shall  come  the  blow 

To  Mary,  virgin-mother? 
1  Barksdale  thus  renders  the  latter  couplet : 
'  Do,  "Dragon,  do,  thy  snakes  together  call, 
That  by  Christ's  virtue  they  may  perish  all.'     G. 


BPIQRAMMATA  SACRA.  133 

Perchance  the  dim-ey'd  seer 

By  sword  intended  spear  : 

No  sword,  0  Christ,  hast  Thou ; 

Whence,  then,  shall  come  the  blow 

To  Mary,  virgin-mother  ? 
Not  spear  or  nail  or  thorn, 
Yet  by  all  these  I'm  torn  : 
No  sword,  0  Christ,  hast  Thou ; 
0  whence,  then,  comes  the  blow 

To  Mary,  virgin-mother  ? 
In  the  dread  tragedy 
Wrought  upon  Calvary, 
Whate'er,  0  suff' ring  Lord, 
Smote  Thee,  pierc'd  as  a  sword 

Mary,  the  virgin-mother.  G. 

CLV. 

In  sanguinem  circumcisionis  dominicae.    Ad  convivas,  quos 

haec  dies  apud  nos  solennes  habet. 
Heus,  conviva  !  bibin'  ?  Maria  haec,  Mariaeque  puellus, 

Mittunt  de  prelo  musta  bibenda  suo. 
Una  quidem  est,  toti  quae  par  tamen  unica  mundo, 

Unica  gutta,  suo  quae  tremit  orbiculo. 
0  bibite  hinc  ;  quale  aut  quantum  vos  cunque  bibistis, 

Credite  mi,  nil  tarn  suave  bibistis  adhuc. 
0  bibite  et  bibite,  et  restat  tamen  usque  bibendum  : 

Restat,  quod  poterit  nulla  domare  sitis. 
Scilicet  hie,  mensura  sitis,  mensura  bibendi  est : 

Haec  quantum  cupias  vina  bibisse,  bibis. 


134  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

On  the  blood  of  the  Lord's  circumcision. 
Ah,  friend,  wilt  drink  ?    Mary  and  her  Babe  divine 
Send  from  their  press,  for  drinking,  this  new  wine. 
One  drop,  yet  this  round  world  in  worth  resembling, 
A  single  drop  in  tiny  circlet  trembling. 
Drink  hence ;  whate'er  ye've  drunk,  how  much  soever, 
Trust  me,  such  pleasant  drink  ye've  met  with  never. 
Drink,  drink  again ;  to  drink  is  left  for  you — 
Is  left  what  mortal  thirst  can  ne'er  subdue. 
Thirst's  limit  here  will  drinking's  bound  define  : 
You  drink  all  that  you  would  drink  of  this  wine. 

E.  Wi. 
CLVI. 

Puer  Jesus  inter  doctores.  Luc.  ii.  46. 
Fallitur,  ad  mentum  qui  pendit  quemque  profundum, 

Ceu  possint  laeves  nil  sapuisse  genae. 
Scilicet  e  barba  male  mensuratur  Apollo  ; 

Et  bene  cum  capitis  stat  nive,  mentis  hyems. 
Discat,  et  a  tenero  disci  quoque  posse  magistro, 

Canitiem  capitis  nee  putet  esse  caput. 

The  Child  Jesus  among  the  doctors. 
To  weigh  a  man  by  bearded  chin  is  vain, 
As  if  smooth  cheeks  no  wisdom  could  contain. 
Forsooth  the  beard  is  a  poor  gauge  of  wit ; 
With  mental  winter  snowy  head  may  fit. 
Hear  what  wise  words  from  a  Child-teacher  fall, 
Nor  think  a  hoary  head  the  head  of  all.  E.  Wi. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  135 

CLVIL 

Ad  Christum,  de  aqua  in  vinum  versa.  Joan.  ii.  1-11. 
Signa  tuis  tuus  hostis  habet  contraria  signis  : 

In  vinum  tristes  tu  mihi  vertis  aquas. 
Ille  autem  e  vino  lacrymas  et  jurgia  ducens, 

Vina  iterum  in  tristes,  hei  mihi !  mutat  aquas. 

To  our  Lord,  upon  the  water  made  wine. 
Thou  water  turn'st  to  wine,  faire  friend  of  life  ; 

Thy  foe,  to  crosse  the  sweet  arts  of  Thy  reigne, 
Distills  from  thence  the  teares  of  wrath  and  strife, 

And  so  turnes  wine  to  water  backe  againe.        CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Blessing's  in  Thy  every  sign, 

But  the  Tempter  each  pollutes  : 
Thou  the  water  makest  wine, 

He  the  wine  to  woe  transmutes.  G. 

CLVIII. 

Christus  infans  Patri  sistitur  in  templo.  Luc.  ii.  22-33. 
Agnus  eat  ludatque,  licet,  sub  patre  petulco  ; 

Cumque  sua  longum  conjuge  turtur  agat. 
Conciliatorem  nihil  hie  opus  ire  per  agnum, 

Nee  tener  ut  volucris  non  sua  fata  ferat. 
Hactenus  exigua  haec,  quasi  munera,  lusimus ;  haec  quae 

Multum  excusanti  sunt  capienda  manu. 
Hoc  donum  est ;  de  quo,  toto  tibi  dicimus  ore, 

Sume,  Pater :  meritis  hoc  tibi  sume  suis. 


136  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Donum  hoc  est,  hoc  esfc ;  quod  scilicet  audeat  ipso 
Esse  Deo  dignum  :  scilicet  ipse  Deus. 

The  Infant  Christ  is  presented  to  the  Father  in  the  temple. 
Let  the  lamb  go,  by  horned  sire  to  play; 
The  turtle,  with  its  mate,  flee  far  away: 
No  need  is  here  of  lamb  to  mediate, 
Or  tender  bird  to  bear  another's  fate. 
At  those  poor  offerings  once,  as  'twere,  we  play'd, 
Receiv'd  by  One  who  much  allowance  made. 
This  is  a  gift  the  full-voic'd  boast  to  wake, 
'  Take  it,  0  Father,  on  its  merits  take.' 
A  gift,  a  gift  this  is,  which  need  not  fear 
Being  fit  for  God,  since  God  Himself  is  here.     R.  Wi. 

CLIX. 

Leprosus  Dominum  implorans.  Matt.  viii.  2. 
Credo  quod  ista  potes,  velles  modo  :  sed  quia  credo, 

Chris te,  quod  ista  potes,  credo  quod  ista  voles. 
Tu  modo,  tu  faciles  mihi,  sol  meus,  exere  vultus ; 

Non  poterit  radios  nix  mea  ferre  tuos.1 

The  leper  beseeching. 
I  believe,  ^Lord,  Thou'rt  able  if  Thou'rt  willing, 

And  I  believe  Thou'rt  willing  as  Thou'rt  able. 
Shine  on  me,  0  my  Sun  :  Thy  rays  distilling, 

Shall  melt  my  snow,  and  give  me  healing  stable.  G. 

1  Barksdale,  as  before,  thus  renders  the  closing  couplet: 
'  Shine  forth,  my  Sun :  soon  as  Thy  beams  are  felt, 
Thy  gracious  healing  beams,  my  snow  will  melt.'     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  137 

CLX. 

Christus  in  tempestate.  Matt.  viii.  23-27. 
Quod  fervet  tanto  circum  te,  Christe,  tumultu, 

Non  hoc  ira  maris,  Christe,  sed  ambitio  est. 
Haec  ilia  ambitio  est,  hoc  tanto  te  rogat  ore, 

Possit  ut  ad  monitus,  Christe,  tacere  tuos. 

Why  are  ye  afraid,  0  ye  of  little  faith  ? 
As  if  the  storme  meant  Him, 
Or  'cause  Heaven's  face  is  dim, 

His  needs  a  cloud. 
"Was  ever  froward  wind 
That  could  be  so  unkind, 

Or  wave  so  proud  1 

The  wind  had  need  be  angry,  and  the  water  black, 
That  to  the  mighty  Neptune's  Self  dare  threaten  wrack. 
There  is  no  storm  but  this 
Of  your  own  cowardise 

That  braves  you  out ; 
You  are  the  storme  that  mocks 
Yourselves ;  you  are  the  rocks 

Of  your  owne  doubt : 

Besides  this  feare  of  danger  there's  no  danger  here, 
And  he  that  here  feares  danger  does  deserve  his  feare.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

That  the  Sea  with  such  violence  falls  on, 

'Tis  not  his  malice,  but  ambition  : 

This  the  ambition,  this  the  loud  request, 

At  Thy  command,  0  Christ,  to  take  his  rest.  B. 


138  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

CLXI. 

Annunciant  ritus,  quos  non  licet  nobis  suscipere,  cum  straws 
Romani.  Act.  xvi.  21. 

Hoc  Caesar  tibi,  Eoma,  tuus  dedit,  armaque  ?  soils 

Eomanis  igitur  non  licet  esse  piis  ? 
Ah,  melius,  tragicis  nullus  tibi  Caesar  in  armis 

Altus  anhelanti  detonuisset  equo  ; 
Nee  domini  volucris  facies  horrenda  per  orbem 

Sueta  tibi  in  signis  torva  venire  tuis  : 
Quam  miser  ut  staret  de  te  tibi,  Roma,  triumphus, 

Ut  tanta  fieres  ambitione  nihil. 
JSTon  tibi,  sed  sceleri  vincis  :  proh  laurea  tristis, 

Laurea,  Cerbereis  aptior  umbra  comis. 
Tarn  turpi  vix  ipse  pater  diademate  Pluto, 

Vix  sedet  ipse  suo  tarn  niger  in  solio. 
De  tot  Caesareis  redit  hoc  tibi,  Roma,  triumphis  : 

Caesaree,  aut,  quod  idem  est,  egregie  misera  es. 

They  teach  customs  which  are  not  lawful  for  us  to  receive, 
neither  to  observe,  being  Romans. 

Rome,  have  thy  Caesar's  arms  wrought  this  for  thee, 
That  Romans  only  may  not  Christians  be  ? 
Better  for  thee  no  Cassar  had  waged  war, 
High-thundering  on  his  fiery  steed  afar ; 
Nor  eagle's  lordly  form  o'er  all  the  world 
Had  aye  on  thy  stern  ensigns  been  unfurl'd. 
How  poor  a  triumph,  Rome,  o'er  thyself  wrought, 
By  dint  of  such  ambition  to  be — nought ! 


EPIGBAMMATA  SACRA.  139 

Conquering  for  sin,  not  Eome  ;  sad  laurel-wreath, 

More  fit  to  shadow  Cerberus'  locks  beneath. 

Old  Pluto  scarce  wears  diadem  so  base, 

Sits  scarce  so  swart  enthron'd  in  his  own  place. 

Caesarean  triumphs,  Eome,  win  this  for  thee  — 

Caesarean,  that  is,  highest  misery.  R  Wi. 

CLXII. 

Hie  lapis  fiat  panis.  Matt.  iv.  3. 
Et  fuit  ille  lapis,  quidni  sit  dicere  ?  panis, 

Christe,  fuit  :  panis  sed  tuus  ille  fuit. 
Quippe  Patris  cum  sic  tulerit  suprema  voluntas, 

Est  panis,  panem  non  habuisse,  tuus. 

Apro$  ttfv  roi  $7)7"')  eivrsTv  Q£/AI$  sffriv,  extTvos, 

reo'f. 


"  Apro$  or'  oux  %v  TO/,  X^/ffre,  rot  agro$  'if\v. 
Command  that  this  stone  become  a  loaf. 
And  so  it  was;  bread  was  that  stone  ; 
Such  bread,  Christ,  as  was  all  Thine  own. 
Since  God  so  will'd  that  it  should  be, 
To  have  no  bread  was  bread  to  Thee.  G. 

CLXIII. 

Mulier  Canaanitis.  Matt.  xv.  22. 
Quicquid  Amazoniis  dedit  olim  fama  puellis, 

Credite  :  Amazoniam  cernimus,  ecce,  fidem. 
Foemina,  tarn  fortis  fidei  ?  jam  credo  fidem  esse 

Plus  quam  grammatice  foeminei  generis. 


140  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

/  The  woman  of  Canaan. 

/  I     Whate'er  Fame  tells  of  Amazons  of  old, 
Believe  :  here  Amazonian  faith  behold. 
I     Of  such  strong  faith  a  woman  ?    Faith  I  see 
\  More  than  in  grammar  feminine  to  be.  R  Wi. 

CLXIV. 

Deus,  post  expulsum  daemonem  mutum,  maledicis  Judaeis  os 
obturat.  Luc.  xi.  14. 

Una  pene  opera  duplicem  tibi  daemona  frangis  : 
Iste  quidem  daemon  mutus ;  at  ille  loquax. 

Scilicet  in  laudes,  quae  non  tibi  laurea  surgit  ? 
Non  magis  hie  loquitur,  quam  tacet  ille  tuas. 

Upon  the  dumbe  devill  cast  out,  and  the  slanderous  Jewes  put 
to  silence. 

Two  devills  at  one  blow  Thou  hast  laid  flat ; 
A  speaking  devill  this,  a  dumbe  one  that. 
Was't  Thy  full  victorie's  fairer  increase, 
That  th'  one  spake,  or  that  th'  other  held  his  peace  ? 

OR. 

CLXV. 

Dicebant,  Vere  hie  est  Propheta.  Joan.  vi.  14. 
Post  tot  quae  videant,  tot  quae  miracula  tangant, 

Haec  et  quae  gustent,  Christe,  dabas  populo  : 
Jam  Vates,  Eex,  et  quicquid  pia  nomina  possunt, 

Christus  erat :  vellem  dicere,  venter  erat. 
Namque  his,  quicquid  erat  Christus,  de  ventre  repleto 

Omne  illud  vero  nomine  venter  erat. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  141 

They  said,  This  is  of  a  truth  that  Prophet. 

When  Christ  had  given  the  multitude  so  much, 

So  many  miracles  to  see,  taste,  touch ; 

Now  Prophet,  King,  the  holiest  name  Heaven  wishes, 

"Was  Christ :  I'd  rather  call  it  '  Loaves  and  fishes.' 

Whate'er  Christ  was,  to  their  stay'd  appetite 

'Twas  all  more  truly  <  Loaves  and  fishes'  dight.   E.  Wi. 

CLXVI. 

Christus  ambulabat  in  porticu  Salomonis,  et  kyems  erat. 
Joan.  x.  22. 

Bruma  fuit  ?  non,  non ;  ah,  non  fuit  ore  sub  isto  : 

Si  fuit,  haud  anni,  nee  sua  "bruma  fuit. 
Bruma  tibi  vernis  velit  ire  decentior  horis, 

'  Per  sibi  non  natas  expatiata  rosas. 
At  tibi  ne  possit  se  tarn  bene  bruma  negare, 

Sola  haec,  quam  vibrat  gens  tua,  grando1  vetat. 

It  was  winter,  and  Jesus  walked  in  Solomon's  porch. 

Was't  winter  ?    No,  0  no ;  beneath  that  Face  : 

At  least  no  natural  winter  there  found  place. 

Winter  for  Thee  would  breathe  Spring's  beauteous  hours, 

With  roses  crowd  its  unaccustom'd  bowers. 

But  lest  so  sweetly  Winter  should  retire, 

Lo,  this  hail  hinders,  hurl'd  by  Jewish  ire.        R.  Wi. 

1  Ver.  31.  Sustulerunt  lapides.    CB. 


142  EPIGBAMMATA  SACRA. 

CLXVII. 

Dederunt  nummos  militibus.  Matt,  xxviii.  12. 

]S"e  miles  velit  ista  loqui,  tu  munera  donas  ? 

Donas,  quod  possit,  cum  tacet  ipse,  loqui. 
Quae  facis  a  quoquam,  pretio  suadente,  taceri ; 

Clarius,  et  dici  turpius  ista  facis. 

They  gave  large  money  to  the  soldiers. 
The  soldiers'  silence  is't  with  money  bought  1 
Thy  gift  will  tell  a  tale,  though  they  say  nought. 
Whatever  with  a  bribe  thou  fain  wouldst  hide, 
More  shamefully  thou  spreadest  far  and  wide.     E.  Wi. 

CLXVIII. 

Beatae  Virgini :  de  salutatione  angelica.   Luc.  i.  26-28. 

Xce?/3£  suum  neque  Caesareus  jam  nuntiet  ales ; 

Xa7/36  tuum  penna  candidiore  venit. 
Sed  taceat,  qui  %a//?g  tuum  quoque  nuntiat,  ales ; 

Xa//?g  meum  penna  candidiore  venit. 
Quis  dicat  mihi  ^aTps  meum  mage  candidus  autor, 

QuAm  tibi  quae  dicat  candidus  ille  tuum  ? 
Virgo,  rogas,  quid  candidius  quam  candidus  ille 

Esse  potest  ?  Virgo,  quae  rogat,  esse  potest. 
Xa7/?g  tuum,  Virgo,  donet  tibi  candidus  ille ; 

Donas  candidior  tu  mihi  ^aTps  meum. 
Xa//?£  meum  de  ^a?ps  tuo  quid  differat,  audi : 

Ille  tuum  dicit,  tu  paris,  ecce,  meum. 


EPJGRAMMATA  SACRA.  143 

To  the  blessed  Virgin :  concerning  the  angelic  salutation. 

Its  '  hail'  Caesarean  eagle  need  not  bring  ; 

Thy  '  hail'  comes  wafted  on  a  whiter  wing. 

But  let  the  '  all-hail'  angel  e'en  be  still ; 

My  *  hail'  comes  flitting  on  a  whiter  quill. 

To  say  my  '  hail'  what  whiter  being  can  be 

Than  that  white  being  who  utters  thine  to  thee  1 

Virgin,  dost  ask  what  whiter  than  that  white 

Might  be  1   The  Virgin  who  is  asking,  might. 

That  white  one,  Virgin,  may  give  *  hail'  to  thee ; 

But  thou,  more  white,  dost  give  my  '  hail'  to  me. 

My  '  hail'  o'er  thy  'hail,'  wouldst  thou  know  its  worth; 

He  utters  thine,  but  mine  thou  bringest  forth.    R  Wi. 


CLXIX. 

Pontio  lavanti.  Matt,  xxvii.  24. 

satis  est  caedes,  nisi  stuprum  hoc  insuper  addas, 

Et  tarn  virgineae  sis  violator  aquae  ? 
Nympha  quidem  pura  haec  et  honesti  filia  fontis 

Luget,  adulterio  jam  temerata  tuo. 
Casta  verecundo  properat  cum  murmure  gutta, 

Nee  satis  in  lacrymam  se  putat  esse  suam. 
Desine  tarn  nitidos  stuprare,  ah  desine,  rores  : 

Aut  die,  quae  miseras  unda  lavabit  aquas. 


14:4  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

To  Pontius  washing  his  blood-stained  hands. 
Is  murther  no  sin  1  or  a  sin  so  cheape 

That  thou  need'st  heape 
A  rape  upon't  ?    Till  thy  adult'rous  touch 

Taught  her  these  sullied  cheeks,  this  blubber'd  face, 
She  was  a  nimph,  the  meadowes  knew  none  such ; 

Of  honest  parentage,  of  unstain'd  race ; 
The  daughter  of  a  faire  and  well-fam'd  fountaine 
As  ever  silver-tipt  the  side  of  shady  mountaine. 

See  how  she  weeps,  and  weeps,  that  she  appeares 

Nothing  but  teares : 
Each  drop's  a  teare  that  weeps  for  her  own  wast. 

Harke  how  at  every  touch  she  does  complaine  her ; 
Harke  how  she  bids  her  frighted  drops  make  hast, 
And  with  sad  murmurs  chides  the  hands  that  stain 

her. 

Leave,  leave,  for  shame ;  or  else,  good  judge,  decree 
What  water  shal  wash  this  when  this  hath  washed  thee. 

CR. 
CLXX. 

In  die  passionis  dominicae. 
Tamne  ego  sim  tetricus?  valeant  jejunia  :  vinum 

Est  mihi  dulce  meo,  nee  pudet  esse,  cado. 
Est  mihi  quod  castis,  neque  prelum  passa,  racemis 

Palmite  virgineo  protulit  uva  parens. 
Hoc  mihi,  ter  denis  sat  enim  maturuit  annis, 
Tandem,  ecce,  e  dolio  praebibit  hasta  suo. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  145 

Jamque  it ;  et  6  quanto  calet  actus  aromate  torrens, 

Acer  ut  hinc  aura  divite  currit  odor  ! 
Quae  rosa  per  cyathos  volitat  tarn  vina  Falernos  1 

Massica  quae  tanto  sidere  vina  tremunt  1 

0  ego  nescibam ;  atque  ecce  est  vinum  illud  amoris, 

Unde  ego  sim  tantis,  unde  ego  par  cyathis. 
Vincor  :  et  6  istis  totus  prope  misceor  auris  : 

Non  ego  sum  tantis,  non  ego  par  cyathis. 
Sed  quid  ego  invicti  metuo  bona  robora  vini  ? 

Ecce  est,  quae  validum  diluit1  unda  merum. 

On  the  day  of  the  Lord's  Passion. 
Should  I  be  dull  1    Fastings  farewell !    Sweet  wine 

1  have — nor  am  asham'd — in  cask  of  mine, 
Which  the  full  grape,  unprest,  from  virgin  shoot 
Produced  for  me  in  purest  cluster'd  fruit. 

This  wine,  now  mellow'd  by  the  thirtieth  year, 
Lo,  from  the  '  wood'  will  pour  at  touch  of  spear. 
It  pours,  and  0  how  sweet  the  torrent  glows, 
How  sharp  an  odour  on  the  rich  air  flows ! 
What  bouquet  thus  breathes  from  Falernian  jars  ? 
What  Massic  wines  tremble  beneath  such  stars  1 
0, 1  knew  not ;  and,  lo,  this  is  Love's  wine, 
Whence  I  such  draughts,  e'en  I,  need  not  decline. 
Vanquish'd,  I  wholly  faint  these  airs  along ; 
I  am  no  match,  not  I,  for  draughts  so  strong. 
But  wherefore  fear  I  their  blest  strength  divine  ? 
Behold  the  water  mingled  with  the  wine  !          R.  Wi. 

1  .  .  .  Et  continue  exivit  sanguis  et  aqua.    CB. 
VOL.  II.  1 


146  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

CLXXI. 

In  die  resurrectionis  dominicae  venit  ad  sepulchrum  Magdalena 
ferens  aromata. 

Quin  et  tu  quoque  busta  tui  Phoenicis  adora ; 

Tu  quoque  fer  tristes,  mens  mea,  delicias. 
Si  nee  aromata  sunt,  nee  quod  tibi  fragrat  amomum ; 

Qualis  Magdalina  est  messis  odora  mariu. 
Est  quod  aromatibus  praestat,  quod  praestat  amomo  : 

Haec  tibi  mollicula,  haec  gemmea  lacrymula. 
Et  lacryma  est  aliquid  :  neque  frustra  Magdala  flevit : 

Sentiit  haec,  lacrymas  non  nihil  esse  suas. 
His  ilia,  et  tune  cum  Domini  caput  iret  amomo, 

Invidiam  capitis  fecerat  esse  pedes. 
]N"unc  quoque  cum  sinus  huic  tanto  sub  aromate  sudet, 

Plus  capit  ex  oculis,  quo  litet,  ilia  suis. 
Christe,  decent  lacrymae  :  decet  isto  rore  rigari 

Vitae  hoc  aeternum  mane  tuumque  diem. 

On  the  day  of  our  Lord's  resurrection,  the  Magdalene  hearing 
spices  comcth  to  the  sepulchre.  Marc.  xvi.  1;  Luc.  xxiv.  1. 

Come  thou  too,  thou ;  kneel  by  thy  Phoenix'  tomb ; 
Bring  tlfy  poor  offerings  too,  my  soul,  and  come. 
With  thee  no  herbs  and  fragrant  spice  are  seen — 
Such  odorous  tribute  gave  the  Magdalene; 
But  these — no  herbs  nor  spices  equal  them — 
These  little  liquid  drops,  each  tear  a  gem. 
One  tear  is  much  :  thine  did  not  fall  in  vain, 
Sweet  Magdalene ;  thou  knewest  the  tears  were  gain. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  147 

With  these — her  Lord's  head  in  amomum  laid — 
The  humble  feet  the  head's  despair  she  made. 
Now,  while  her  breast  moist  with  such  fragrance  lies, 
She  in  a  strife  draws  sweeter  from  her  eyes. 
Lord  Christ,  these  tears  are  well :  well  fits  it  too 
Life's  everlasting  morn  drip  with  such  dew.  A. 

CLXXII. 

In  cicatrices  Domini  adhuc  superstites.  Luc.  xxiv.  31. 

Anna  vides ;  arcus,  pharetramque  levesque  sagittas, 

Et  quocunque  fuit  nomine  miles  Amor. 
His  fuit  usus  Amor  :  sed  et  haec  fuit  ipse ;  suumque 

Et  jaculum,  et  jaculis  ipse  pharetra  suis. 
Nunc  splendent  tantum,  et  deterso  pulvere  belli 

E  memori  pendent  nomina  magna  tholo. 
Tempus  erit  tamen,  haec  irae  quando  arma  pharetramque, 

Et  sobolem  pharetrae  spicula  tradet  Amor. 
Heu,  qua  tune  anima,  quo  stabit  conscia  vultu, 

Quum  scelus  agnoscet  dextera  quaeque  suum  ? 
Improbe,  quae  dederis,  cernes  ibi  vulnera,  miles, 

Qua  tibi  cunque  tuus  lus'erit  arte  furor. 
Seu  digito  suadente  tuo  mala  laurus  inibat 

Temporibus ;  sacrum  seu  bibit  hasta  latus  : 
Sive  tuo  clavi  saevum  rubuere  sub  ictu ; 

Seu  puduit  jussis  ire  flagella  tuis. 
Improbe,  quae  dederis,  cernes  ibi  vulnera,  miles  : 

Quod  dederis  vulnus,  cernere,  vulnus  erit. 


148  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Plaga  sui  vindex  clavosque  rependet  et  hastam  : 
Quoque  rependet,  erit  clavus  et  hasta  sibi. 

Quis  tarn  terribiles,  tarn  justas  moverit  Iras'? 
Vulnera  pugnabunt,  Christe,  vel  ipsa  tibi. 

On  the  scars  of  the  Lord  still  remaining. 
Arms  see — bows,  quiver,  arrows  flying  far, 
And  every  style  in  which.  Love  went  to  war. 
These  arms  Love  used — nay,  Himself  was  :  His  own 
Dart  and  darts'  quiver  was  Himself  alone. 
ISTow  they  but  shine,  and,  dusty  battle  ended, 
In  treasur'd  glory  are  on  high  suspended. 
Time  comes  when  unto  Wrath  these  arms,  both  quiver 
And  quiver's  offspring,  darts,  Love  will  deliver. 
Ah,  with  what  thoughts,  what  countenance  wilt  thou 

stand 

When  its  own  guilt  comes  home  to  each  right  hand  ? 
Wretch,  thou  wilt  see  the  wounds  which  thou  hast  made, 
And  with  what  fatal  skill  thy  fury  play'd  : 
Whether  with  bloody  wreath  thy  fingers  plied 
His  temples,  or  thy  spear  drank  His  dear  side ; 
Or  'neath  thy  blow  nails  turn'd  a  cruel  red, 
Or  the  scourge  blush'd  as  at  thy  call  it  sped. 
Wretch,  there  the  wounds  thou  gavest  thou  shalt  see  : 
To  see  the  wound  thou  gav'st  a  wound  shall  be. 
,  Stroke  self-avenging  follows  nails  and  spear : 
Its  nail  and  spear  of  recompense  are  here. 
Such  awful  righteous  wrath  who  would  excite  1 
Thy  very  wounds,  0  Christ,  for  Thee  will  fight.   E.  Wi. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  149 

CLXXIII. 

Pacem  meam  do  vobis.  Joan.  xiv.  27. 

Bella  vocant :  arma,  6  socii,  nostra  arma  paremus 
Atque  enses  :  nostros  scilicet,  ah,  jugulos. 

Cur  ego  bella  paro,  cum  Christus  det  mihi  pacem  ? 
Quod  Christus  pacem  dat  mihi,  bella  paro. 

Ille  dedit,  nam  quis  potuit  dare  certior  autor  1 
Ille  dedit  pacem  :  sed  dedit  ille  suam. 

My  peace  I  give  unto  you. 

"War  calls  :  0  friends,  our  arms  let  us  prepare, 
And  swords ;  forsooth,  our  throats  let  us  lay  bare. 
Why  war  prepare,  if  Christ  His  peace  afford  1 
Because  Christ  gives  me  peace,  I  take  the  sword. 
He  gave — what  surer  giver  can  be  shown  ? 
He  gave  the  peace,  but  then  He  gave  His  own.    K.  "Wi. 

CLXXIV. 

InD.Paulum  illuminatum  simul  et  excaecatum.  Act.  ix.  8,  9. 

Quae,  Christe,  ambigua  haec  bifidi  tibi  gloria  teli  est, 
Quod  simul  huic  oculos  abstulit  atque  dedit  ? 

Sancta  dies  animi,  hac  oculorum  in  nocte,  latebat ; 
Te  ut  possit  Paulus  cernere,  caecus  erat. 

Paul's  conversion  and  blindness. 
Why,  Lord,  this  twofold  glory  of  Thy  ray, 
Giving  him  sight  whose  sight  it  takes  away? 
Paul  in  that  night  God's  inner  light  shall  find  : 
That  he  may  see  The  Christ  his  eyes  are  blind.       CL. 


150  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

CLXXV. 

Ego  sum  Via.    AdJudaeos  spretores  Christi.  Joan.  xiv.  6. 

0  sed  nee  calcanda  tamen  :  pes  improbe,  pergis  1 
Improbe  pes,  ergo  hoc  coeli  erat  ire  viam  1 

Ah.  pereat,  Judaee  ferox,  pes  improbus  ille, 
Qui  coeli  tritam  sic  facit  esse  viam. 

I  am  the  Way.     To  the  Jewish  despisers  of  Christ. 

Not  to  be  trampled  on,  though :  vile  foot,  stay ; 
Yile  foot,  is  this  to  tread  the  heavenly  Way? 
Let  that  fierce  Jewish  foot  to  death  be  given, 
Which  thus  wears  out  the  blessed  Way  to  heaven.  E.  Wi. 

CLXXVI. 

In  nocturnum  et  hyemale  iter  infantis  Domini.  Matt.  ii.  19-21. 

Ergo  viatores  teneros,  cum  Prole  parentem, 

Nox  habet  hos,  queis  est  digna  nee  ulla  dies. 
Nam  quid  ad  haec  Pueri  vel  labra  genasve  parentis  1 

Heu,  quid  ad  haec  facient  oscula,  nox  et  hyems  ! 
Lilia  ad  haec  facerent,  faceret  rosa ;  quicquid  et  halat 

Aeterna  Zephyrus  qui  tepet  in  viola. 
Hi  meruere,  quibus  vel  nox  sit  nulla ;  vel  ulla 

Si  sit,  eat  nostra  purius  ilia  die. 
Ecce  sed  hos  quoque  nox  et  hyems  clausere  tenellos  : 

Et  quis  scit,  quid  nox,  quid  meditetur  hyems  1 
Ah,  ne  quid  meditetur  hyems  saevire  per  Austros, 

Quaeque  solet  nigros  nox  mala  ferre  metus  ! 


BPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  151 

Ah,  ne  noctis  eat  currus  non  mollibus  Euris, 

Aspera  ne  tetricos  nuntiet  aura  Xotos  ! 
Heu,  quot  habent  tenebrae,  quot  vera  pericula  secum, 

Quot  noctem  dominam  quantaque  monstra  colunt ! 
Quot  vaga  quae  falsis  veniunt  ludibria  formis  ! 

Trux  oculus,  Stygio  concolor  ala  Deo  ! 
Seu  veris  ea,  sive  vagis  stant  monstra  figuris  ; 

Virginei  satis  est  hinc,  satis  inde  metus. 
Ergo  veni ;  totoque  veni  resonantior  arcu, 

Cynthia,  praegnantem  clange  procul  pharetram. 
Monstra  vel  ista  vel  ilia,  tuis  sint  meta  sagittis  : 

K"ec  fratris  jaculum  certior  aura  vehat. 
Ergo  veni,  totoque  veni,  flagrantior  ore, 

Dignaque  Apollineas  sustinuisse  vices. 
Scis  bene  quid  deceat  Phoebi  lucere  sororem  : 

Ex  his,  si  nescis,  Cynthia,  disce  genis. 
0  tua,  in  his,  quanto  lampas  formosior  iret ! 

Nox  suam,  ab  his,  quanto  malit  habere  diem  ! 
Quantum  ageret  tacitos  haec  luna  modestior  ignes, 

Atque  verecundis  sobria  staret  equis  ! 
Luna,  tuae  non  est  rosa  tarn  pudibunda  diei, 

ISTec  tam  Yirgineo  fax  tua  flore  tremit. 
Ergo  veni ;  sed  et  astra,  tuas  age,  Cynthia,  turmas  : 

Ilia  oculos  pueri,  quos  imitentur,  habent. 
Hinc  oculo,  hinc  astro  :  at  parili  face  nictat  utrumque  ; 

Aetheris  os,  atque  os  aethereum  Pueri. 
Aspice,  quam  bene  res  utriusque  deceret  utrumque  ! 

Quam  bene  in  alternas  mutua  regna  manus  ! 


152  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Ille  oculus  coeli  hoc  si  staret  in  aethere  frontis ; 

Sive  astrum  hoc  Pueri  fronte  sub  aetherea. 
Si  Pueri  hoc  astrum  aetherea  sub  fronte  micaret, 

Credat  et  hunc  oculum  non  minus  esse  suum. 
Ille  oculus  coeli,  hoc  si  staret  in  aethere  frontis, 

Non  minus  in  coelis  se  putet  esse  suis. 
Tain  pulchras  variare  vices  cum  fronte  Puelli, 

C  unique  Puelli  oculis  aether  et  astra  queant. 
Astra  quidem  vellent ;  vellent  aeterna  pacisci 

Foedera  mutatae  sedis  inire  vicem. 
Aether  et  ipse,  licet  numero  tarn  dispare,  vellet 

Mutatis  oculis  tarn  bona  pacta  dari. 
Quippe  iret  coelum  quanto  melioribus  astris, 

Astra  sua  hos  oculos  si  modo  habere  queat ! 
Quippe  astra  in  coelo  quantum  meliore  micarent, 

Si  frontem  hanc  possint  coelum  habuisse  suum. 
Aether  et  astra  velint :  frustra  velit  aether  et  astra  :    ' 

Ecce  negat  Pueri  frons,  oculique  negant. 
Ah,  neget  ilia,  negent  illi :  nam  quern  aethera  mallent 

Isti  oculi  1  aut  frons  haec  quae  magis  astra  velit  ? 
Quid  si  aliquod  blanda  face  lene  renideat  astrum  ? 

Lactea^si  coeli  terque  quaterque  via  est  ? 
Blandior  hie  oculus,  roseo  hoc  qui  ridet  in  ore ; 

Lactea  frons  haec  est  terque  quaterque  magis. 
Ergo  negent,  coelumque  suum  sua  sidera  servent : 

Sidera  de  coelis  non  bene  danda  suis. 
Ergo  negant :  seque  ecce  sua  sub  nube  recondunt, 

Sub  tenera  occidui  nube  supercilii : 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  153 

Nec  claudi  contenta  sui  munimine  coeli, 

Quaerunt  in  gremio  matris  ubi  lateant. 
Non  nisi  sic  tactis  ubi  nix  tepet  ilia  pruinis, 

Castaque  non  gelido  frigore  vernat  hyems. 
Scilicet  iste  dies  tarn  pulchro  vespere  tingi 

Dignus  ;  et  hos  soles  sic  decet  occidere. 
Claudat  purpureus  qui  claudit  vesper  Olympum ; 

Puniceo  placeas  tu  tibi,  Phoebe,  toro ; 
Duni  tibi  lascivam  Thetis  auget  adultera  noctem, 

Pone  per  Hesperias  strata  pudenda  rosas. 
Illas  nempe  rosas,  quas  conscia  purpura  pinxit ; 

Culpa  pudorque  suus  queis  dedit  esse  rosas. 
Hos  soles,  niveae  noctes,  castumque  cubile, 

Quod  purum  sternet  per  mare  virgo  Thetis ; 
Hos,  sancti  flores ;  hos,  tarn  sincera  decebant 

Lilia  ;  quaeque  sibi  non  rubuere  rosae. 
Hos,  decuit  sinus  hie ;  ubi  toto  sidere  proni 

Ecce  lavant  sese  lacteo  in  oceano. 
Atque  lavent :  tandemque  suo  se  mane  resolvant, 

Ipsa  dies  ex  hoc  ut  bibat  ore  diem. 

On  the  night  and  iv inter  journey  of  the  Infant  Lord. 
These  tender  travellers,  feel  they  Night's  dark  sway, 
Mother  and  Child,  too  good  for  whitest  day? 
For  how  will  mother's  cheeks,  or  lips  of  Child, 
How  kisses  fare,  from  Night  and  Winter  wild  ] 
With  lilies  these,  with  roses,  should  be  blest, 
Or  sweetest  breath  of  violet-perfum'd  West. 


154  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Sucli  travellers  merited  to  have  no  night, 

Or,  if  at  all,  one  whiter  than  our  light. 

Winter  and  Night  these  tender  ones  enclose, 

And  what  Night  plots,  or  Winter,  ah,  who  knows  ? 

Ah,  lest  fell  Winter  with  its  north-winds  rage, 

Ill-omen' d  Night  its  wonted  fears  engage. 

Ah,  lest  rough  east-winds  should  Night's  chariot  draw, 

Or  harsh  south-winds  should  shake  the  heart  with  awe. 

What  real  perils  troop  in  Darkness'  train, 

Over  what  monsters  Night  extends  her  reign: 

What  vagrant  phantoms,  which  in  false  shapes  go, 

Stern-ey'd,  black-pinion'd,  like  the  gods  below! 

But  standing  forth  in  false  forms  or  in  true, 

For  these,  for  those,  a  Virgin's  dread  is  due. 

Come  then,  come,  Cynthia,  with  resounding  bow, 

And  clang  thy  full-charg'd  quiver  at  the  foe. 

These  monsters,  those,  thy  darts  unerring  share, 

Nor  truer  aim  thy  brother's  arrows  bear  : 

Come,  then,  0  come,  with  all  thy  face  a-flame, 

Worthy  thyself  to  take  Apollo's  name. 

Thou  know'st  how  Phoebus'  sister  ought  to  shine ; 

If  not,  learn,  Cynthia,  from  these  cheeks  divine. 

Placed  here  thy  torch  more  beauty  would  display, 

And  Night  from  hence  prefer  to  draw  its  day ; 

Such  moon  more  modest  shed  its  silent  beam, 

And  shamefac'd  stay  her  softly-going  team. 

0  Moon,  thy  day  no  rose  so  chaste  resembles, 

Thy  torch  with  no  such  virgin  beauty  trembles. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  155 

Come  then,  but  bring  thy  troops  of  stars  likewise ; 

For  they  can  try  to  shine  like  the  Child's  eyes. 

An  eye,  a  star,  twinkling  with  equal  grace, 

The  face  of  heaven  and  the  Child's  heavenly  face. 

How  well  the  charm  of  each  transferr'd  would  show, 

From  hand  to  hand  the  mutual  sceptres  go  ! 

Whether  heaven's  eye  should  deck  His  skiey  brow, 

Or  the  Child's  star  adorn  heaven's  forehead  now. 

If  the  Child's  star  on  heaven's  forehead  shone, 

That  eye  would  seem  to  Him  not  less  His  own. 

Place  on  His  skiey  forehead  heaven's  eye, 

Xot  less  'twould  deem  itself  in  its  own  sky. 

Such  interchanges  might  the  stars  and  skies 

Make  charmingly  with  the  Child's  brow  and  eyes. 

For  change  of  place  the  stars  indeed  might  like 

An  everlasting  treaty  now  to  strike  ; 

And  differing  though  in  numbers,  e'en  the  skies 

Might  wish  to  bargain  for  a  change  of  eyes. 

With  how  much  better  stars  the  sky  would  shine, 

If  as  its  stars  it  had  these  eyes  divine  ! 

The  stars  would  shine  in  how  much  better  heaven, 

If  as  their  sky  this  brow  divine  were  given ! 

So  sky  and  stars  may  choose — in  vain  they  choose ; 

For  the  Child's  brow  and  His  fair  eyes  refuse. 

Ah,  -wisely ;  for  these  eyes  what  better  heaven 

Could  wish  1  what  better  stars  to  brow  be  given  ? 

What  though  some  gentle  star  more  softly  gleams  ? 

What  if  heaven's  way  thrice,  four  times,  milky  seems  ? 


156  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Softer  this  eye  which,  smiles  in  ruddy  face ; 

This  milk-white  brow,  thrice,  four  times  is  its  grace. 

To  quit  their  heaven,  let  then  these  stars  deny ; 

Stars  ought  not  to  be  ta'en  from  their  own  sky. 

They  do  deny ;  and  soon  in  cloud  are  hid, 

In  tender  shadow  of  the  drooping  lid. 

Nor  with  their  own  defence  content  they  rest, 

But  seek  a  hiding-place  in  mother's  breast. 

Thus  the  snow  melts  where  His  warm  touch  is  plac'd, 

And  genial  Spring  blooms  out  of  Winter  chaste. 

Such  day  such  evening-dew  deserves  to  drink ; 

Such  suns  in  such  a  bed  deserve  to  sink. 

Sky-closing  Eve,  thy  purple  veil  entwine, 

Sun,  thy  luxurious  couch  incarnadine  ; 

While  wanton  Thetis  day  too  early  closes, 

Thy  shameless  bed  place  'mid  Hesperian  roses  ; 

Roses,  forsooth,  by  conscious  blushes  painted, 

By  sin  with  its  own  tell-tale  redness  tainted. 

Nights  snowy-white,  chaste  couch  to  these  suns  be, 

Which  virgin  Thetis  spreads  o'er  lucent  sea ; 

All-holy  flowers,  lilies  inviolate, 

Roses  with  innocent  blush  upon  them  wait. 

Be  theirs  this  bosom,  where  reclin'd  all  night 

They  bathe  themselves  in  ocean  milky-white. 

And  let  them  bathe,  till  their  own  morn  say,  rise ; 

And  Day  itself  drink  splendour  from  these  eyes.  R.  Wi. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  J  •''/ 

CLXXVII. 

Non  dico,  me  rogaturum  Patrem  pro  vobis.  Joan.  xvi.  26. 

Ah  tamen  ipse  roga  :  tibi  scilicet  ille  roganti 

Esse  nequit  durus,  nee  solet  esse,  Pater. 
Ille  suos  omni  facie  te  figit  amores ; 

Inque  tuos  toto  effunditur  ore  sinus. 
Quippe,  tuos  spectans  oculos,  se  spectat  in  illis ; 

Inque  tuo,  Jesu,  se  fovet  ipse  sinu. 
Ex  te  metitur  sese,  et  sua  numina  discit : 

Inde  repercussus  redditur  ipse  sibi. 
Ille  tibi  se,  te  ille  sibi  par  nectit  utrinque : 

Tarn  tuus  est,  ut  nee  sit  magis  ille  suus. 
Ergo  roga  :  ipse  roga  :  tibi  scilicet  ille  roganti 

Esse  nequit  durus,  nee  solet  esse,  Pater. 
Ilium  ut  ego  rogitem  ?  Hoc,  eheu,  non  ore  rogandum ; 

Ore  satis  puras  non  faciente  preces. 
Ilium  ego  si  rogitem,  quis  scit  quibus  ille  procellis 

Surgat,  et  in  miserum  hoc  quae  tonet  ira  caput  1 
Isto  etiam  forsan  veniet  mihi  fulmen  ab  ore  : 

Saepe  isto  certe  fulmen  ab  ore  venit. 
Ille  una  irati  forsan  me  cuspide  verbi, 

Uno  me  nutu  figet,  et  interii : 
Non  ego,  non  rogitem  :  mihi  scilicet  ille  roganti 

Durior  esse  potest,  et  solet  esse,  Pater. 
Immo  rogabo  :  nee  ore  meo  tamen  :  immo  rogabo 
Ore  meo,  Jesu,  scilicet  ore  tuo. 


158  EPIGEAMMATA  SACRA. 

I  do  not  say  that  I  will  pray  the  Father  for  you. 
Yea,  Lord,  ask  Thou :   He  is  not  wont  to  be, 
He  cannot  prove  unkind,  if  ask'd  of  Thee. 
With  favouring  eyes  He  makes  Thee  all  His  love ; 
Toward  Thine  heart,  Lord,  His  whole  affections  move. 
Beholding  Thy  fair  eyes  Himself  He  sees ; 
In  Thy  pure  breast  Himself  He  cherishes. 
By  Thee  He  metes  Himself,  His  godhead  learns, 
And,  sweet  reversion  !  to  Himself  returns. 
He  Thee,  Thou  He,  in  one  Ye  intertwine ; 
He  is  His  own  no  more,  He  is  so  Thine. 
Yea,  Lord,  ask  Thou  :  He  is  not  wont  to  be, 
He  cannot  prove  unkind,  if  ask'd  of  Thee. 
Shall  these  lips,  Lord,  ask  Him  ?  But  how  should  they? 
With  rightful  words  and  pure  they  fail  to  pray. 
If  I  should  ask  Him,  then,  what  tempests  dread, 
What  anger  thundering  o'er  this  wretched  head ! 
His  look  perchance  would  gleam  as  lightning  down — 
Yea,  oft,  I  know,  as  lightning  falls  His  frown. 
Perchance  the  javelin  of  one  angry  word, 
One  nod,  would  slay,  and  I  should  die  unheard. 
I  ?  I'll  not  ask  :  Lord,  He  is  wont  to  be, 
He  easy  proves  unkind,  if  ask'd  of  me. 
Yet,  stay :  I'll  ask  : — not  with  these  lips  of  mine ; 
Yea,  with  my  lips, — my  lips,  Lord,  namely  Thine.    A. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  159 

CLXXVIIL 

In  die  ascensionis  dominicae.  Act.  i.  9,  10. 
Usque  etiam  nostros  te,  Christe,  tenemus  amores  1 

Hen,  coeli  quantam  liinc  invidiain  patimur  ! 
Invidiam  patiamur  :  habent  sua  sidera  coeli, 

Quaeque  comunt  tremulas  crispa  tot  ora  faces  ; 
Phoebenque  et  Phoebum,  et  tot  pictae  vellera  nubis, 

Vellera,  quae  rosea  Sol  variavit  acu. 
Quantum  erat,  ut  sinerent  hac  una  nos  face  ferri  ? 

Una  sit  hie  :  sunt  et  sint  ibi  mille  faces. 
Xil  agimus  :  nam  tu  quia  non  ascendis  ad  ilium, 

Aether1  descendit,  Christe,  vel  ipse  tibi. 


Nuv  en  qftsrepov  ffs,  Hpiffre,  eyjjfisv  rov 
Ovgavov  ovv  offffov  rov  pdovov  ug  e 

e^tt  id  /J,sv  rd  8'  dyd^ara 


"  Offffov  eriv,  rifj,7v  ope'  t'/rj  'iv  rods  oiffrpov, 

"  AffTpov  \M  r^iuv  fi'  ztffi  rot  uffrg    txarov. 
ndvrcc  /^dr^v.  6V/,  Xp/<rr£,  ffv  ovx  ave(3aiyz$  sg  avrov, 
Avrbg  fj^lv  xarffiq  ovgavbg  g/g  ffs  reo$. 


On  the  day  of  the  Lord's  ascension. 
Still  do  we  keep  Thee  here,  0  Christ,  our  Love  ? 
Ah,  envy  much  we  gain  from  Heaven  above  ! 
But  be  it  so  :  Heaven  is  with  stars  a-blaze, 
And  countless  orbs  that  trick  their  tremulous  rays 
Moon,  sun,  and  colour'd  clouds,  a  fleecy  store, 
By  Evening's  rosy  touch  embroider'd  o'er. 

1  Act.  i.  Nubes  susceptum  eum  abstulit.     CK. 


160  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

'Twere  little  they  should  leave  one  light  below  : 

Let  one  be  here,  a  thousand  there  may  glow. 

'Tis  vain :  since  Thou  ascendest  not  on  high, 

To  Thee,  0  Christ,  descends  the  very  sky.         B,.  Wi. 

CLXXIX. 

Caecus  implorat  Christum.  Marc.  x.  46-52. 

Improba  turba,  tace.    Mihi  tarn  mea  vota  propinquant, 

Et  linguam  de  me  vis  tacuisse  mearn  ? 
Tune  ego  tune  taceam,  mihi  cum  meus  ille  loquetur  : 

Si  nescis,  oculos  vox  habet  ista  meos. 
0  noctis  miserere  meae,  miserere ;  per  illam. 

In  te  quae  primo  riserit  ore,  diem. 
0  noctis  miserere  meae,  miserere ;  per  illam 

Quae,  nisi  te  videat,  nox  velit  esse,  diem. 
0  noctis  miserere  meae,  miserere  ;  per  illam 

In  te  quam  fidei  nox  habet  ipsa,  diem. 
Haec  animi  tarn  clara  dies  rogat  illam  oculorum : 

Illam,  oro,  dederis ;  hanc  mihi  ne  rapias. 


sXeqffov  SfAtfv,  eAe'^ffof.  vccl  TOI  sxs/Vo, 
/rfrs,  S/AOU  ft/tap,  vj^  od'  £/x,£/o  fyet. 
ftsv  sKzl'vOj  0sog,  d'ssrai  rode 


M^  {AOI  rovr*  a'fgyg,  boc,  ^oi  exttvo  <paoc,.1 

The  blind  man  implores  Christ. 
Be  silent,  crowd  :  my  prayers  so  near  me  come, 
And  do  you  bid  my  pleading  tongue  be  dumb, 

J  Crashaw  must  have  stopped  short  in  his  Greek  version  of 
the  present  and  succeeding  epigram.     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  161 

Before  my  Lord  to  me  His  speech  addresses  ? 
Know,  then,  that  voice  of  His  my  eyes  possesses. 
Pity  my  night,  Lord,  pity;  by  that  day 
Which  smiled  on  me  in  Thee  with  earliest  ray  : 
Pity  my  night,  Lord,  pity  ;  by  that  day 
Which  if  it  sees  Thee  not,  for  night  would  pray  : 
Pity  my  night,  Lord,  pity  ;  by  that  day 
Which  in  faith's  dimness  fades  not  quite  away. 
My  mind's  clear  day  bids  my  eyes'  day  awake  : 
This  grant,  0  Lord,  nor  the  other  from  me  take. 

K.  Wi. 
CLXXX. 

Quis  ex  vobis  si  habeat  centum  oves,  et  perdiderit  nnam  ex 
illis,  d-c.  Luc.  xv.  4. 

O  ut  ego  angelicis  fiam  bona  gaudia  turmis  ! 

Me  quoque  solicito  quaere  per  arva  gradu. 
Mille  tibi  tutis  ludunt  in  montibus  agni, 

Quos  potes  hand  dubia  dicere  voce  tuos. 
Unus  ego  erravi,  quo  me  meus  error  agebat  ; 

-  Unus  ego  fuerim  gaudia  plura  tibi. 
Gaudia  non  faciunt,  quae  nee  fecere  timorem  ; 

Et  plus  quae  donant  ipsa  peric'la  placent. 
Ho  rum  quos  retines  fuerit  tibi  latior  usus  : 

De  me  quern  recipis  dulcior  usus  erit. 


syw,  T  [MOV 
fs  ds  TOI  ffoi/y  tffo/AQt.i  iyi)&oavva,i  TXt 
6  i*,r\  crowv  <pof3ov  oJ 

Mst^UV  TUV  lAtV,    E/AO'J 

VOL.  ii. 


162  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 


What  man  of  you  having  a  hundred  sheep,  if  he  lose  one  of 
them,  &c. 

0  might  I  fire  the  angel-bands  with  joy, 
Thy  seeking  steps  o'er  anxious  plains  employ  ! 
A  thousand  lambs  on  the  safe  mountains  play  ; 
All  Thine  they  are,  Thou  certainly  canst  say. 
The  one  that  err'd  and  stray'd  behold  in  me  ; 
Be  I  the  one  to  bring  more  joy  to  Thee  ! 
They  give  no  joy  who  never  caus'd  a  fear  ; 
Dangers  themselves,  o'ercome,  the  more  endear. 
Of  those  retain'd,  more  wide  be  the  employment  ; 
Of  me  recover'd,  sweeter  the  enjoyment.         R  Wi. 

CLXXXI. 

Herodi  D.  Jacobum  obtruncanti.  Act.  xii.  2. 

ISTescis  Jacobus  quantum  hunc  tibi  debeat  ictum, 
Quaeque  tua  in  sacrum  saeviat  ira  caput. 

Scilicet  ipso  illi  donasti  hoc  ense  coronam, 
Quo  sacrum  abscideras  scilicet  ense  caput. 

Abscissum  pensare  caput  quae  possit  abunde, 
Sola  kaec  tarn  saeva  et  sacra  corona  fuit. 


rot  <*<p 

"Ef  rods  x.ai  ffrsfiavov  <£i<pos  sduxs  rsov. 
OL/VOV  a[ASi(B&ffda.i  XKpaXrjv,  'Iaxw/3s,  bvvatr 
g  ob'  ug  xaXog  j&aervptou  arspavog. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  163 

To  Herod  beheading  St.  James. 

Know'st  not  how  much  James  owes  thee  for  this  stroke, 
Or  how  on  his  blest  head  thine  anger  broke. 
Lo,  to  himself  a  crown  thou  dost  accord 
Forsooth  with  that  selfsame  beheading  sword. 
Only  this  sacred  sanguinary  crown 
That  sunder'd  head  was  able  to  weigh  down.       R.  Wi. 

CLXXXII. 

Caeci  receptis  oculis  Christum  sequuntur.  Matt.  xx.  34. 

Ecce  manu  imposita  Christus  nova  sidera  ponit  : 

Sectantur  patriam  sidera  fida  manum. 
Haec  manus  his,  credo,  coelum  est  :  haec  scilicet  astra 

Suspicor  esse  olim  quae  geret  ille  manu.1 


Aff-rpa,'  o 

abr?j  rovroiz  <7TeXsv  ovpavoz.  affrga,  yap 
'Ev  %2P/  raDr'  o/ffsi  "Xp/ffrbz  e^g/ra  ffl. 


The  blind  men  having  received  their  sight  follow  Christ. 
See  Christ  with  outstretcht  hand  new  stars  create, 
Which  on  that  hand  with  due  observance  wait. 
That  hand,  sure,  is  their  heaven  :  these  stars  are  they 
Which  He  will  hold  in  His  right  hand  one  day. 

R.  Wi. 
1  Rev.  i.  16.    CB. 


164  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

CLXXXIII. 

Zachaeus  in  sycomoro.  Luc.  xix.  4. 

Quid  te,  quid  jactas  alienis  fructibus,  arbor  ? 

Quid  tibi  cum  foliis  non,  sycomore,  tuis  1 
Quippe  istic  ramo  qui  jam  tibi  nutat  ab  alto, 

Mox  e  divina  Vite  racemus  erit. 


Tinr    eKixofA-Trdfyiz  xevtbv  %£ivu>  de  ri 

Ka/  puXXo/c  ffs/ivr]  fATj,  ffvKOfAMPf,  reo/g  ; 
Ka/  yag  o<3'  exxpfjfJt,V7)$  ffov  vvv  {Atrtueog  UK 
6  xXa5wv  eWsra/  ovpavtov. 


Zaccheus  in  the  sycamore-tree. 
Why  of  strange  fruits  dost  boast,  0  sycamore  ? 
Of  leaves  not  thine  who  gave  thee  such  a  store  ? 
He  who  waves  to  and  fro  on  bough  of  thine, 
A  cluster  soon  will  be  of  the  True  Vine.  K.  Wi. 

CLXXXIV. 

On  our  crucified  Lord  naked  and  bloody. 

Th'  have  left  Thee  naked,  Lord  :  0  that  they  had  ! 

This  garment  too  I  would  they  had  deny'd. 

Thee  with  Thyselfe  they  have  too  richly  clad, 

Opening  tjie  purple  wardrobe  of  Thy  side. 
0  never  could  bee  found  garments  too  good 
For  Thee  to  weare,  but  these  of  Thine  own  blood. 

CLXXXV. 

Sampson  to  his  Dalilah. 

Could  not  once  blinding  me,  cruell,  suffice  ? 
When  first  I  look't  on  thee,  I  lost  mine  eyes. 


SECULAR  EPIGRAMS. 

I. 

Upon  Ford1:  twoTragedyes,  'Love's  Sacrifice1  and  'The  Broken 

Heart. ' 

THOU  cheat' st  us,  Ford;  mak'st  one  seeme  two  by  art: 
What  is  Love's  Sacrifice  but  The  Broken  Heart  ? 

II. 

Vpon  the  Faire  Ethiopian,  sent  to  a  gentlewoman. 
Lo  here  the  faire  Chariclea,  in  whom  strove 
So  false  a  fortune  and  so  true  a  love  ! 
Now  after  all  her  toyles  by  sea  and  land, 

0  may  she  but  arrive  at  your  white  hand ! 

Her  hopes  are  crown'd ;  onely  she  feares  that  than 
Shee  shall  appeare  true  Ethiopian. 

III. 

On  marriage. 

1  would  be  married,  but  I'de  have  no  wife  : 
I  would  be  married  to  a  single  life. 

IV. 

On  Nanus  mounted  upon  an  ant. 
High-mounted  on  an  ant,  Nanus  the  tall 
Was  throwne,  alas,  and  got  a  deadly  fall ; 
Vnder  th'  unruly  beast's  proud  feet  he  lies 
All  torne  :  with  much  adoe  yet  ere  he  dyes 
Hee  straines  these  words  :  Base  Envy,  doe  laugh  on  : 
Thus  did  I  fall,  and  thus  fell  Phaethon. 


166  SECULAR  EPIGRAMS. 

V. 

Vpon  Venus  putting -on  Mars  his  armes. 
What,  Mars  his  sword  1  faire  Cytherea,  say, 
Why  art  thou  arm'd  so  desperately  to-day  ? 
Mars  thou  hast  beaten  naked ;  and,  0  then, 
What  needst  thou  put  on  armes  against  poore  men? 

VI. 

Vpon  the  same. 

Pallas  saw  Venus  arm'd,  and  straight  she  cry'd  : 
Come  if  thou  dar'st ;  thus,  thus  let  us  be  try'd. 
Why,  foole  !  saies  Venus,  thus  provok'st  thou  mee, 
That  being  nak't,  thou  know'st  could  conquer  thee  ? 

VII. 

Out  of  Martiall. 
Foure  teeth  thou  hadst,  that,  ranck'd  in  goodly  state, 

Kept  thy  mouth's  gate. 
The  first  blast  of  thy  cough  left  two  alone ; 

The  second,  none. 

This  last  cough,  Delia,  cought-out  all  thy  feare ; 
Th'  hast  left  the  third  cough  now  no  business  here. 

*          NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

These  Secular,  or,  as  the  word  was, '  Humane'  Epigrams,  all 
originally  appeared  in  the  volume  of  1646,  as  before,  and  were 
continued  in  the  after-editions.  It  is  pleasant  to  have  this  re 
cognition  of  John  Ford  (i.)  by  Crashaw.  The  two  Tragedies 
celebrated,  appeared  in  the  same  year,  1633.  The  '  Faire  Ethio 
pian'  of  ii.  was  doubtless  William  Lisle's  poem  so  named  [Lond. 
1632] , — not  given  by  Hazlitt,  s.  n.  The  others  are  too  well 
known  to  need  annotation.  These  are  all  preserved,  with  a 
collection  of  others,  in  the  Tanner  MS.,  as  before.  G. 


f aim 

PART   FIRST.      SACRED. 


II. 

EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA, 

NEVEB  BEFORE  PRINTED. 


NOTE. 

It  is  my  great  privilege  to  be  the  first  to  print  the  follow 
ing  extensive  additions  to  the  Epigrammata  Sacra  of  Crashaw. 
They  are  wholly  derived  from  Archbishop  Bancroft's  MS.  in  the 
Bodleian,  as  described  in  our  Preface  (Vol.  I.  p.  xx.-xxiii.) 
and  in  the  Preface  to  the  present  Volume.  For  their  relation 
to  those  published  by  the  Author  himself  and  in  the  editions  of 
1634  and  1670,  see  our  Essay,  as  before.  As  with  Crashaw's 
own  collection  (of  1634),  the  Epigrams  seem  to  have  been  com 
posed  and  written  down  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  as  a  sub 
ject  struck  him,  and  hence  there  is  the  same  absence  of  arrange 
ment  :  nor  is  it  much  to  be  lamented,  seeing  that  each  is  inde 
pendent.  As  a  rule,  I  follow  the  order  of  the  manuscript.  For 
translations  of  fifteen  of  these  fifty-five  Epigrams,  viz.  Nos.  8, 
9,  19,  24,  26,  32,  34,  35,  39,  46,  48,  49,  51,  52,  53,  and  55, 1  am 
indebted,  as  for  so  much  more  throughout,  to  my  excellent 
poet-friend  the  Rev.  RICHARD  WILTON,  M.A.,  as  before  :  for  the 
others,  in  Fuller's  phrase,  '  my  meanness  is  responsible,'  ex 
cept  in  a  few  instances  wherein  Crashaw  has  himself  furnished 
renderings,  or  at  least  little  poems  less  or  more  corresponding 
with  the  Latin ;  as  pointed  out  in  the  places.  G. 


I. 

Act.  xxviii.  3. 
PAULE,  nihil  metuas,  non  fert  haec  vipera  virus  : 

Yirtutem  vestrae  vult  didicisse  manus. 
Oscula,  non  morsus;  supplex,  non  applicat  hostis. 
Nee  metuenda  venit,  sed  miseranda  magis. 

St.  Paul  and  the  viper. 
Paul,  fear  tliou  nought ;  no  poison  bears  this  asp  : 

It  seeks  to  learn  the  virtue  of  thy  hand. 
Not  as  a  foe,  but  suppliant,  it  would  clasp ; 

Not  fear,  but  pity,  it  would  fain  command.      G. 

II. 

Joan.  vi.  14,  26. 

Jam  credunt,  Deus  es  :  Deus  est,  qui  teste  palato, 
Quique  ipso  demum  est  judice  dente  Deus. 

Scilicet  haec  sapiunt  miracula  :  de  quibus  alvus 
Proficere,  et  possit  pingue  latus  fluere. 

Haec  sua  fecisti  populo  miracula  credunt. 
Gens  pia,  et  in  ventrem  relligiosa  suum  ! 

The  miracle  of  the  loaves. 

Now  truly  they  believe  that  Thou  art  God  ! — 
God  witnessed  by  palate  and  by  tooth  ! — 


170  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

They  know  the  smack  of  miracles  that  load 

And  swell  their  paunches ;  yea,  believe,  forsooth. 
To  a  most  pious  race,  Lord,  Thou  appealest, 
And  stomachs  most  believing  Thou  revealest.  G. 


III. 

In  lacrymas  Christi  patientis. 

Saeve  dolor  !  potes  hoc  1  oculos  quoque  perpluis  istos  ? 

0  quarn  non  meritas  haec  arat  unda  genas  ! 
0  lacrymas  ego  flere  tuas,  ego  dignior  istud, 

Quod  tibi  cunque  cadit  roris,  habere  meum. 
Siccine  ?  me  tibi  flere  tuas  !  ah,  mi  bone  Jesu, 

Si  possem  lacrymas  vel  mihi  flere  meas  ! 
Flere  meas  ?  immo  immo  tuas,  hoc  si  modo  possem  : 

Non  possem  lacrymas,  non  ego  flere  meas. 
Flere  tuas  est  flere  meas,  tua  lacryma,  Christe, 

Est  mea  vel  lacryma  est  si  tua,  causa  mea  est. 

Of  the  tears  of  the  suffering  Christ. 

0  cruel  Pain  !  I  ask  thee  how 
Thou  canst  do  what  thou'rt  doing  now  ? 
Dost  thou  also — or  is't  my  fears  ? — 
Drench  His  sweet  eyes  with  scalding  tears  ? 
O  how  that  show'r  furrows  amain 
His  undeserving  cheek,  as  rain  ! 
More  meet  it  were  that  I  should  know 
The  tears  that  from  His  anguish  flow  : 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  171 

More  meet  it  were  that  I  should  feel 

All  dews  that  down  His  wan  cheek  steal  : 

0  is  it  thus  ?  Would  that  it  were  ! 

That  I  might  weep  Thy  laden  tear  : 

Yea,  blessed  Jesus,  would  that  I 

For  mine  own  self  could  weeping  lie  : 

Mine  own  tears  weep  ?  nay,  they  are  Thine, 

For  all  Thy  tears,  alas,  are  mine. 

Ah,  not  a  tear  that  Thou  didst  shed, 

When  sorrow  bow'd  Thy  sacred  head, 

But  came  of  human  woe  or  guilt, 

For  which  at  last  Thy  Blood  was  spilt; 

And  even  if  the  tears  were  Thine, 

Being  for  my  sake,  they're  rather  mine.  G. 


IV. 

In  sepulcrum  Domini.  Joan.  xix.  38-42. 

Jam  cedant,  veteris  cedant  miracula  saxi, 
Unde  novus  subito  fluxerat  amne  latex. 

Tu  felix  rupes,  ubi  se  lux  tertia  toilet, 
Flammarum  sacro  fonte  superba  flues. 

The  sepulchre  of  the  Lord. 

Yield  place,  ye  wonders  of  the  ancient  stone 

Whence  sudden-gushing  streams  were  seen  to  flow : 

When  the  third  day,  blest  rock,  on  thee  has  shone, 
Proudly  with  fount  of  sacred  fire  thou'lt  glow.    G. 


172  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

V. 

Ubi  amorem  praecipit.  Joan.  xiii.  14. 
Sic  magis  in  numeros  morituraque  carmina  vivit 

Dulcior  extrema  voce  caducus  olor ; 
Ut  tu  inter  strepitus  odii,  et  tua  funera,  Jesu, 

Totus  amor  liquido  totus  amore  sonas. 

The  parting  words  of  Love. 
E'en  as  the  dying  swan,  sweeter  for  failing  breath, 

Dies  not,  but  rather  lives,  in  her  last  wistful  song, 
Dost  Thou,  Lord,  mid  hate's  din  and  close-approaching 

death, 

As  Love,  with  melting  voice,  Thy  dying  love  pro 
long.  G. 

VI. 
Act.  xii.  23. 

Euge,  Deus — pleno  populus  fremit  undique  plausu — 
Certe  non  hominem  vox  sonat,  euge,  Deus  ! 

Sed  tamen  iste  Deus  qui  sit,  vos  dicite,  vermes, 
Intima  turba  illi ;  vos  fovet  ille  sinu. 

Herod  devoured  of  worms. 
Behold  a  god  !  full-voic'd  the  people  cry; 

Not  man,  but  god,  with  shouts  they  him  attest. 
What  kind  of  god  he  is,  ye  worms,  reply — 

A  crowd  that  know  the  secrets  of  his  breast.       G. 

VII. 

Bonum  est  nobis  esse  hie. 

Cur  cupis  hie  adeo,  dormitor  Petre,  manere  1 
Somnia  non  alibi  tarn  bona,  Petre,  vides. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  173 

It  is  good  to  be  here. 

Why  seek'st  thou,  drowsy  Peter,  here  to  stay  ? 
Elsewhere  such  pleasant  dreams  thou  see'st  not,  eh  I1   G. 

VIII. 

Videte  lilia  agrorum  .  .  .  nee  Salomon,  &c.  Matt.  vi.  29. 
Candide  rex  campi,  cui  floris  eburnea  ponipa  est, 

Deque  nivis  fragili  vellere  longa  toga ; 
Purpureus  Salomon  impar  tibi  dicitur  esto. 

Nenipe,  quod  est  melius,  par  fuit  ille  rosis. 

Look  on  the  lilies  of  the  field  .  .  .  not  Solomon,  <£c. 
0  fairest  monarch  of  the  enamell'd  field, 

Whose  is  the  blossom'd  pomp  of  ivory  splendour, 
And  whose  the  fleeces,  snowy-white,  which  yield 

Long-flowing  robes  immaculate  and  tender. 
Ah,  not  like  lilies — 'tis  divinely  spoken — 

Was  Solomon,  with  sin  encrimsoned ; 
But  not  unlike — and  'tis  a  better  token — 

Roses  tear-wash' d,  which  hang  tire  blushing  head. 

R.  Wi. 
IX. 

Marc.  vii.  33,  36. 
Voce  manuque  simul  linguae  tu,  Christe,  ciendae  : 

Sistendae  nudis  vocibus  usus  eras. 
Sane  at  lingua  equus  est  pronis  effusus  habenis  : 
Vox  ciet,  at  sistit  non  nisi  tota  manus. 

1  Is  the  allusion  to  Peter's  following  '  afar  off,1  and  after- 
denial  of  the  Lord  ?     G. 


174  EPIGRAM MATA  SACRA. 

The  deaf  healed. 
To  wake  the  tongue — voice,  hand  too,  Christ  would  use; 

To  check  it,  but  a  bare  word  of  command, 
lieally,  the  tongue  is  as  a  horse  rein'd-loose — 
Starts  at  a  word,  stay'd  only  with  strong  hand. 

R.  AVi. 
X. 

In  beatae  Virginis  verecundiam. 
Xon  est  hoc  matris,  sed,  creel e,  modestia  nati, 
Quod  virgo  in  gremium  dejicit  ora  suum. 
Illic  jam  Deus  est,  oculus  jam  Virginis  ergo, 
lit  coeluin  videat,  dejiciendus  erit. 

The  modesty  of  the  blessed  Virgin. 
Not  humbleness  of  mother,  but  of  Child, 
Shines  in  the  downward  gaze  of  Virgin  mild. 
The  Virgin  gazes  where  her  God  doth  lie  : 
She  must  look  down  that  Heaven  may  meet  her  eye. 

G. 
XL 

Mitto  vos  sicut  agnos  in  medio  luporum. 
Hos  quoque,  an  hos  igitur  saevi  lacerabitis  agnos  ? 

Hie  saltern,  hie  vobis  non  licet  esse  lupis. 
At  sceleris  nulla  est  dementia,  at  ergo  scietis, 
Agnus  qui  nunc  est,  est  aliquando  Leo. 

I  send  you  as  lambs  in  the  midst  of  wolves. 
These  lambs  also,  e'en  these,  will  ye,  then,  fiercely  tear  1 
Here  to  be  wolves,  at  least  here,  ye  will  never  dare. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  175 

Alas,  the  wicked  still  are  cruel ;  but  ye'll  xearn 

He  Who  is  now  a  Lamb  will  one  day  Lion  turn.      G. 

XII. 

Christus  a  daemone  vectus.  Matt.  iv. 

Ergo  ille,  angelicis  6  sarcina  dignior  alis, 
Praepete  sic  Stygio,  sic  volet  ille  vehi. 

Pessime  !  nee  laetare  tamen  tu  scilicet  inde, 
Non  minus  es  daemon,  non  minus  ille  Deus. 

Christ  carried  by  the  devil. 

Will  He — 0  burden  worthier  angels'  wings  ! — 
Deign  to  be  carried  by  swift  fiend  of  hell  1 

Vilest !  to  thee  this  no  advancement  brings  ; 

He  no  less  God,  thou  no  less  demon  fell.  G. 

XIII. 
Joan.  i.  23. 

Vox  ego  sum,  dicis  :  tu  vox  es,  sancte  Joannes  ? 

Si  vox  es,  sterilis  cur  tibi  mater  erat  1 
Quam  fuit  ista  tuae  mira  infoecundia  matris  ! 

In  vocem  sterilis  rarior  esse  solet. 

St.  John  the  Baptist  a  voice. 

1 1  am  a  voice,  a  voice,'  says  holy  John. 

If  so,  how  should  thy  mother  barren  be  ? 
This  is  unfruitfulness  to  muse  upon ; 

Tongue-barren  women  we  so  seldom  see  !          G. 


176  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XIV. 

Vox  Joannes,  Christus  Verbum. 

Monstrat  Joannes  Christum,  hand  res  mira  videtur  : 

Vox  unus,  verbum  scilicet  alter  erat. 
Christus  Joanne  est  prior,  haec  res  mira  videtur  : 

Voce  sua  verbum  non  solet  esse  prius. 

John  the  Voice,  Christ  the  Word. 
John  points  out  Christ ;  no  wonder  this  we  deem  : 

One  is  a  Voice,  the  other  is  the  Word. 
Christ  is  before  John  ;  wondrous  this  may  seem  ; 

For  when  was  word  before  a  voice  e'er  heard  'I    G. 

XV. 

In  natales  Domini  pastoribus  nuntiatos.  Luc.  ii.  8-19. 
Ad  te  sydereis,  ad  te,  bone  Tityre,  pennis 

Purpureus  juvenis  gaudia  tanta  vehit. 
0  bene  te  vigilem,  cui  gaudia  tanta  feruntur, 

Ut  neque  dum  vigilas,  te  vigilare  putes. 
Quern  sic  monstrari  voluit  pastoribus  aether, 

Pastor  an  agnus  erat  ?  Pastor  et  agnus  erat. 
Ipse  Deus  cum  Pastor  erit,  quis  non  erit  agnus  ? 

Quis  Aon  pastor  erit,  cum  Deus  agnus  erit  ? 

0»i  the  birth  of  the  Lord  announced  to  the  shepherds. 
To  thee,  good  Tityrus,  on  starry  wings  shepherd 

The  royal  angel  such  '  glad  tidings'  brings. 
Surely  the  happy  watcher  never  thought 
That  he  was  watching  when  such  joys  were  brought. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  177 

And  He,  Whom  thus  the  heavenly  host  reveal'd 
To  shepherds  'mid  their  flocks  in  open  field, 
Tell  me,  was  He  a  Shepherd  or  a  Lamb  ? 
Shepherd  and  Lamb  at  once ;  He  took  each  name. 
Since,  then,  our  God  a  Shepherd's  name  doth  wear, 
The  name  of  lamb  who  will  not  wish  to  bear  ] 
And  who  will  not  be  shepherd,  since  God  deigns 
To  be  a  Lamb,  for  suffering  of  sin's  pains  ]  G. 

XVI. 

In  Atheniensem  merum.  Act.  xvii.  28. 

Ipsos  naturae  thalamos  sapis,  imaque  rerum 
Concilia,  et  primae  quicquid  agunt  tenebrae, 

Quid  dubitet  refluum  mare,  quid  vaga  sydera  volvant ; 
Christus  et  est  studiis  res  aliena  tuis. 

Sic  scire,  est  tantum  nescire  loquacius  ilia : 
Qui  nempe  ilia  sapit  sola,  nee  ilia  sapit. 

Of  the  '  blue-blood'  pride  of  the  Athenians. 
Thou  knowest  Nature's  secret  things 
And  all  her  deepest  counsellings — 
All  wonders  of  the  primal  Night 
Conceal'd  from  prying  human  sight ; 
Knowest  how  the  sea-tide  pauses, 
The  wandering  stars  too  in  their  causes. 
But  while  to  thee,  in  all  else  wise, 
Christ  from  thy  thoughts  an  alien  lies, 
In  earthly  studies  to  advance 
Is  but  loquacious  ignorance ; 

VOL.  II.  U 


178  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

And  he  whose  wisdom  is  but  such, 

Of  those  things  even  knows  not  much. 

0,  study  thou  beneath  the  Cross, 

Or  all  thy  labour  is  but  loss  !  G. 

XVII. 

Ego  vitis  vera.  Joan.  xv.  1. 
Credo  quidem,  sed  et  hoc  hostis  te  credidit  ipse 

Caiaphas,  et  Judas  credidit  ipse,  reor. 
Ilnde  illis,  Jesu,  vitis  nisi  vera  fuisses, 

Tanta  tui  potuit  sanguinis  esse  sitis  ? 

I  am  the  True  Vine. 
'  Believe  !'  e'en  Caiaphas,  thy  foe,  believed 

Thee  the  True  Vine  ;  and  Judas  too,  I  think. 
Had  they  not,  Lord,  Thee  as  True  Vine  received, 

Could  they  have  thirsted  so  Thy  Blood  to  drink  ? 

G. 
XVIII. 

Abscessum  Christi  queruntur  Discipuli. 

Ille  abiit,  jamque  6  quae  nos  mala  cunque  manetis, 

,,> 
Sistite  jam  in  nostras  tela  parata  neces. 

Sistite ;   nam  quibus  haec  vos  olim  tela  paratis, 
Abscessu  Domini  jam  periere  sui. 

The  departure  of  Christ  lamented  by  the  Disciples. 
The  Lord  is  gone ;  and  now,  all  evils  dire, 

Hold  back  the  darts  which  for  our  death  you  flourish 
Yea,  hold  them  back,  nor  waste  on  us  your  ire, 

For  with  our  Lord's  departure,  lo,  we  perish.      G. 


EPIGSAMMATA  SACRA.  179 

XIX. 

In  descensum  Spiritus  Sancti.  Act.  H.  1-4. 

Quae  vehit  auratos  nubes  dulcissima  nimbos  ? 

Quis  mitem  pluviam  lucidus  imber  agit  ? 
Agnosco,  nostros  haec  nubes  abstulit  ignes  : 

Haec  nubes  in  nos  jam  redit  igne  pari. 
0  nubem  gratam  et  memorem,  quae  noluit  ultra 

Tarn  saeve  de  se  nos  potuisse  queri  ! 
O  bene ;  namque  alio  non  posset  rore  rependi, 

Coelo  exhalatum  quod  modo  terra  dedit. 

On  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

What  sweetest  cloud  comes  wafting  golden  shower'/ 
What  gentle  raindrops  bring  their  shining  dower? 
The  cloud  which  stole  our  flame,  our  heart's  desire, 
This  very  cloud  returns  with  equal  fire. 
O  kindly-mindful  cloud,  which  could  not  brook 
That  we  should  mourn  thee  with  so  sad  a  look ! 
'Tis  well ;  no  other  dew  had  couritervail'd 
That  which  from  earth  to  heaven  was  late  exhal'd. 

K.  Wi. 

XX. 

Act.  x.  39. 

Quis  malus  appendit  de  mortis  stipite  vitam? 

0  malus  agricola,  hoc  inseruisse  fuit  ? 
Immo,  quis  appendit  yitae  hac  ex  arbore  mortem  ? 

0  bonus  Agricola,  hoc  inseruisse  fuit. 


180  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

What  wicked  one  affix'd  Life  to  Death's  tree  ? 

0  wretched  gard'ner,  call'st  thou  this  engrafting  1 
Nay,  tell  me  who  affix'd  Death  to  Life's  tree  1 

0  noble  Gard'ner,  this  I  call  engrafting.  G. 

XXI. 

Ego  sum  Ostium.  Joan.  x.  9. 

Jamque  pates,  cordisque  seram  gravis  hasta  reclusit, 

Et  clavi  claves  undique  te  reserant. 
Ah,  vereor,  sibi  ne  mamis  impia  clauserit  illas, 

Quae  coeli  has  ausa  est  sic  aperire  fores. 

I  am  the  Doore. 

And  now  th'  art  set  wide  ope ;  the  speare's  sad  art, 
Lo,  hath  unlockt  Thee  at  the  very  heart. 
He  to  himself e — I  feare  the  worst — 

And  his  owne  hope, 
Hath  shut  these  doores  of  heaven,  that  durst 

Thus  set  them  ope.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Now  Thtou  art  open  wide ;  the  barrier  dear 
Of  Thy  great  heart  unclos'd  by  cruel  spear ; 
And  nails  as  keys  unlock  Thee  everywhere. 
Ah,  he  whose  wicked  hand  thus  forc'd  the  gate 
Of  heaven,  perhaps  at  heaven's  shut  door  will  wait 
One  day,  with  outer  darkness  for  his  fate.  G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  181 

XXII. 

In  spinas  demtas  a  Christi  capite  cruentatas. 
Accipe,  an  ignoscis  ?  de  te  sata  germina,  miles. 

Quam  segeti  est  messis  discolor  ilia  suae ! 
()  <]uae  tarn  duro  gleba  est  tarn,  grata  colono  ? 

Inserit  hie  spinas  :  reddit  et  ilia  rosas. 

Upon  the  thornes  taken  downefrom  our  Lord's  head  bloody. 
Knowst  thou  this,  souldier  ?  'tis  a  much-chang'd  plant, 
which  yet 

Thyselfe  didst  set ; 
'Tis  chang'd  indeed :  did  Autumn  e're  such  beauties  "bring 

To  shame  his  Spring  ? 
0,  who  so  hard  an  husbandman  could  ever  find 

A  soyle  so  kind  ? 
Is  not  the  soile  a  .kind  one,  thinke  ye,  that  returnes 

Roses  for  thornes  ?  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Take,  soldier — know'st  them  not  1 — thy  planted  germs  ; 

A  harvest  how  unlike  to  its  seed-corn  ! 
What  soil  yields  husbandman  such  kindly  terms  ? 

The  rose  he  gathers,  where  he  planted  thorn.      G. 

XXIII. 

Joan.  iii.  1-21. 

Nox  erat,  et  Christum,  Doctor  male  docte,  petebas 
In  Christo  tenebras  depositure  tuas. 


182  EPIGRAMS!  ATA  SACRA. 

Ille  autem  multo  dum  te  bonus  irrigat  ore, 

Atque  per  arcanas  ducit  in  alta  vias, 
Sol  venit,  et  primo  pandit  se  flore  diei, 

Ludit  et  in  dubiis  aureus  horror  aquis. 
Sol  oritur  ;  sed  adhuc,  et  adhuc  tamen,  6  bone,  nescis. 

Sol  oritur,  tecum  nox  tamen  est,  et  adhuc 


coeli,  ilia  fuit,  nox  fuit  ilia  tua. 


Nicodemus. 

'Twas  night  ;  and,  Teacher  all  untaught, 

Thy  darkness  thou  to  Christ  hast  brought  ; 

But  while  attent  He  speaks  to  thee 

Benignant  words,  that  thou  mayst  see, 

Leading  higher  still  and  higher, 

As  thy  yearnings  do  aspire, 

G.uiding  thee,  by  sure  grace  given, 

Through  secret  paths  that  reach  to  heaven  ; 

Lo,  the  Sun  on  thee  is  risen, 

Bursting  from  his  cloudy  prison, 

Showing  Him,  the  Life,  the  Way, 

Flushing  with  first  bloom  of  day, 

Quivering  with  a  golden  light 

Such  as  on  wav'ring  seas  gleams  bright. 

The  Sun  is  risen  ;  yet  darkness  lies, 

Good  Nicodemus,  on  thine  eyes  ; 

But  the  night's  thine  own  ;  for,  lo, 

All  heav'n  above  doth  lustrous  glow.  G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  183 

XXIV. 

Domitiano  de  S.  Johanne  ad  portam  Lat. 
Ergo  ut  inultus  eas  ?  sed  nee  tamen  ibis  inultus, 

Sic  violare  ansus  meque  meosque  deos. 
lire  oleo,  lictor.    Oleo  parat  mere  lictor  : 

Sed  quern  uri  lictor  credidit,  unctus  erat. 
Te  quoque  sic  olei  virtus  malefida  fefellit  ? 

Sic  tua  te  Pallas,  Domitiane,  juvat  ? 

To  Domitian,  concerning  St.  John  commanded  to  be  cast  into  a 
caldron  of  boiling  oil. 

Thou  go  unpunish'd  1    That  shall  never  be, 

Since  thou  hast  dar'd  to  mock  my  gods  and  me. 

Burn  him  in  oil ! — The  lictor  oil  prepares  : 

Behold  the  Saint  anointed  unawares  ! 

With  such  elusive  virtue  was  the  oil  fraught ! 

Such  aid  thy  olive-loving  Pallas  brought  I1        R.  Wi. 

XXV. 

In  Baptistam  vocem.  Joan.  i.  23. 
Tantum  habuit  Baptista  loqui,  tot  flumina  rerum, 

Ut  bene  Vox  fuerit,  praetereaque  nihil. 
Ecce  autem  Verbum  est  unum  tantum  ille  loquutus  : 

Uno  sed  Verbo  cuncta  loquutus  erat. 

The  voice  of  the  Baptist. 
The  Baptist  had  to  speak  such  floods  of  things, 

That  well  he  might  be  Voice  and  nothing  more  : 
But  one  word  only,  lo,  Christ  speaks,  which  brings 

In  one  word  all :  My  soul  that  Word  adore  !      fr. 

1  The  allusion  in  1.  5  is  to  wrestlers  anointing  themselves 
to  prevent  their  adversaries  grasping  them.     B.  Wi. 


184  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XXVI. 

InD.  Petrum  angelo  solutum.  Act.  xii.  6,  7. 
Mors  tibi  et  Herodes  instant :  cum  nuncius  ales 

Gaudia  fert,  quae  tu  somnia  ferre  putas. 
Quid  tantum  dedit  ille,  rogo,  tibi  ?  Yincula  solvit, 
Mors  tibi  et  Herodes  nonne  dedisset  idem  ? 

On  St.  Peter  loosed  by  the  angel. 
Death,  Herod,  press  on  thee ;  when  angel's  wing 
Brings  joys  which  thou  supposest  dreams  to  bring. 
What  gave  he  thee  ?    Thy  chains  burst  at  his  touch  ; 
But  Death  and  Herod  would  have  given  as  much. 

R.  Wi. 
XXVII. 

Relictis  omnibus  sequuti  sunt  eum.  Luc.  v.  28. 
Ad  nutuni  "Domini  abjecisti  retia,  Petre. 

Tani  bene  non  unquam  jacta  fuere  prius. 
Scilicet  hoc  recte  jacere  est  tua  retia,  Petre, 
Ximiram,  Christus  cum  jubet,  abjicere. 

On  St.  Peter  casting  away  his  nets  at  our  Saviour's  call. 
Thou  hast^he  art  on't,  Peter,  and  canst  tell 
To  cast  thy  nets  on  all  occasions  welL 
When  Christ  calls,  and  thy  nets  would  have  thee  stay, 
To  cast  them  well's  to  cast  them  quite  away.          CR. 

ANOTHER  TEB5IOX. 

At  the  Lord's  word  thy  nets  were  cast  away : 
Xever  before  thy  nets  so  well  were  cast. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  185 

Eightly  to  cast  them  is  to  cast  away, 

When  once  The  Master's  order  has  been  pass'd.    G. 


XXVIII. 
Agnus  Dei,  qui  tollit  peccata  mundi.  Joan.  i.  36. 

Ergo  tot  lieu,  torvas  facies,  tot  in  ora  leonum, 
In  tot  castra  lupum  qui  meat,  Agnus  erit  ] 

Hie  tot  in  horribiles,  quot  sunt  mea  crimina,  pardos  1 
Hie  tot  in  audaces  ungue  vel  ore  feras  ? 

Ah  melius,  pugiles  quis  enim  commiserit  istos  ? 
Quos  sua  non  faciunt  anna  vel  ira  pares. 

The  Lamb  of  God,  Who  bears  away  the  SITU  of  the  world. 

Shall  He,  then,  be  a  Lamb,  to  go 

Forth  against  such  various  foe  ? 

Lions  ravenous,  great  of  jaw ; 

Wolves  in  vast  herds,  of  mighty  paw; 

Pards  vengeful,  prowling  out  and  in — 

Frightful,  num'rous  as  my  sin — 

Awful  of  face,  and  gaunt  and  grim, 

Merciless  to  mangle  limb  by  limb. 

Ah,  goest  Thou,  gentle  One,  'gainst  these  ? 

And  does  terror  upon  Thee  seize  ? 

O  how  unequal  is  the  strife, 

And  the  prey  so  grand  a  life ! 

With  such  as  these  to  fight  art  fated? 

Nor  in  arms  nor  passion  mated.  G. 


186  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XXIX. 

Pisces  multiplicati.   Joan.  xxi.  11. 
Quae  secreta  meant  taciti  tibi  retia  verbi, 
Queis  non  tarn  pisces  quam  capis  Oceanum  1 

The  miraculous  draught  of  fishes. 
What  nets,  hid  in  Thy  silent  word, 

Passest  Thou  on  \ 
By  which  not  fish  Thou  takest,  Lord, 

But  the  Ocean1?  G. 

XXX. 

Domine,  non  solum  pedes,  sed  et  caput,  &c.  Joan.  xiii.  9. 
En  caput,  atque  suis  quae  plus  satis  ora  laborant 

Sordibus  \  hue  fluvios,  ais  [et]  adde  tuos. 
Nil  opus  est ;  namque  haec,  modo  tertius  occinat  ales, 

E  fluviis  fuerint,  Petre,  lavanda  suis. 

Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  but  also  my  head,  &c. 
'  Behold  my  head,  behold  my  face, 
Which  sin's  filthiest  stains  deface  : 
Here  pour  Thy  streams  :'  thou  say'st  to  Me. 
But,  Petjr,  needs  not  this  for  thee  ; 
.For  ere  the  cock  a  third  time  crow, 
Eivers  of  its  own  tears  must  flow.  G. 

XXXI. 

Cum  tot  signa  edidisset,  non  credebant.  Joan.  xii.  37. 
Quanta  amor  ille  tuus  se  cunque  levaverit  ala, 
Quo  tua  cunque  opere  effloruit  alta  manus ; 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  187 

Mundus  adest,  contraque  tonat,  signisque  reponit 
Signa,  adeo  sua  sunt  numina  vel  sceleri, 

Imo,  6  nee  nimii  vis  sit  temeraria  verbi, 
Jlle  uno  sensu  vel  tua  cuncta  premit. 

Tot  tantisque  tuis  mirac'lum  hoc  objicit  unum, 
Tot  tantisque  tuis  non  adhibere  fidem. 

Though  they  beheld  so  many  miracles,  they  believed  not. 

However  high  in  Thy  great  love  Thou  wingest, 
And  whatsoe'er  within  Thy  hand  Thou  bringest, 
Against  Thee,  with  its  thunders,  stands  the  world, 
Sign  answering  sign ;  Sin's  banners  all  unfurl'd. 
Nay — and  let  not  the  bold  rash  word  appal — 
One  thought  o'  the  world  makes  all  Thy  wonders  fall : 
Against  Thy  mightiest  signs  this  one  it  wields — 
To  the  vast  whole  of  Thine,  no  faith  it  yields.       G. 

XXXII. 

In  nubem,  quae  Dominum  abstulit.  Act.  i.  9. 

0  nigra  haec !  quid  enim  mihi  Candida  pectora  monstrat, 

Pectora  cygneis  candidiora  genis  ? 
Sit  vero  magis  alba,  suo  magis  aurea  Phoebo, 

Quantumcunque  sibi  Candida ;  nigra  mihi  est. 
Nigra  mihi  nubes  !  et  qua  neque  nigrior  Austros, 

Vel  tulit  irati  nuntia  tela  Dei. 
Nigra  !  licet  nimbos,  noctem  neque  detulit  ullam. 

Si  noctem  non  fert,  at  rapit,  ecce,  diem. 


188  E?IGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

On  the  cloud  which  received  the  Lord. 
0,  this  black  cloud  !  a  white  breast  does  it  show — 
A  breast  more  white  than  a  swan's  neck  of  snow  1 
More  bright  than  golden  sunshine  let  it  be ! 
However  fair  itself,  'tis  black  to  me. 
From  blacker  cloud  ne'er  issu'd  stormy  blast, 
Nor  thunderbolts  of  angry  heaven  were  cast. 
Black !  though  no  showers  or  shadows  round  it  play ; 
If  Night  it  bring  not,  yet  it  takes  our  Day.       R.  Wi. 

XXXIII. 

Vidit  urbem,  etjlevit  super  earn.  Luc.  xix.  41,  42. 
Ergo  meas  spernis  lacrymas,  urbs  perfida  1  Sperne. 

Sperne  meas,  quas  6  sic  facis  esse  tuas. 
Tempus  erit,  lacrymas  poterit  cum  lacryma  demurn 

Nostra,  nee  immerito,  spernere  spreta  tuas. 

He  saw  the  city,  and  wept  over  it. 
Why  scornest  thou  My  tears,  deceitful  city? 

Scorn,  scorn  My  tears,  and  thus  thou  mak'st  them 

thine. 

The  time  will  come  when  thou  shalt  seek  My  pity ; 
But  i  shall  scorn  thy  tears,  as  thou  scorn'st  Mine. 

G. 
XXXIV. 

Nee  sicut  iste  publicanus.  Luc.  xviii.  11. 

Tu  quoque  dum  istius  miseri  peccata  fateris, 
Quae  nee  is  irato  mitius  ungue  notat ; 

Hie  satis  est  gemino  bonus  in  sua  crimina  telo. 
Interea,  quid  erit,  mi  Pharisaee,  tuis  1 


BPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  189 

Nor  even  as  this  publican. 

While  thou  too  dost  this  wretch's  sins  confess, 
Which  he  with  hand  and  tongue  deplores  no  less ; 
If  he  'gainst  his  own  crimes  twice  just  will  be, 
What  thinks  he  meanwhile  of  the  Pharisee  1     E.  Wi. 

XXXV. 

Accedentes  Discipuli  excitaverunt  eum.  Matt.  viii.  25. 
Ah,  quis  erat  furor  hos,  tam  raros,  solvere  soninos  ? 

0  vos,  queis  Christi  vel  sopor  invigilat ! 
Ilium  si  somnus  tenuit,  vos  somnia  terrent, 

Somnia  tam  vanos  ingeminata  metus. 
Xil  Christi  nocuit  somnus,  mihi  credite.    Somnus 

Qui  nocuit,  vestrae  somnus  erat  fidei. 

His  Disciples  came  and  awoke  Him. 
What  madness  this,  slumbers  so  rare  to  break, 
O  ye,  for  whom  even  Christ's  sleep  doth  wake  ! 
If  sleep  held  Him,  ye're  terrified  by  dreams — 
Dreams  which  redouble  fear  that  only  seems. 
Christ's  sleep  nought  injur'd  you,  indeed  'tis  true  : 
Your  faith's  sleep,  and  that  only,  injur'd  you.     E.  Wi. 

XXXVI. 

In  mulierem  Canaanaeam  cum  Domino  decertantem. 
Matt.  xv.  22-28. 

Cedit  io  jam,  jamque  cadet  modo,  fortiter  urge, 
Jam  tua  ni  desit  dextera,  jamque  cadet. 

Nimirum  hoc  velit  ipse,  tuo  favet  ipse  triumpho, 
Ipse  tuas  tacitus  res  tuus  hostis  agit. 


190  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Quas  patitur  facit  ille  manus  ;  ictu  ille  sub  omni  est ; 

Atque  in  te  vires  sentit,  amatque  suas. 
Usque  adeo  baud  tuus  hie  ferus  est,  neque  ferreus  hostis ; 

Usque  adeo  est  miles  non  truculentus  Amor. 
Illo  quam  facilis  victoria  surgit  ab  hoste, 

Qui,  tantum  ut  vinci  possit,  in  arm  a  venit  ! 

The  woman  of  Canaan. 

Now  He  yieldeth,  now  He  falleth, 

As  tby  passion  on  Him  calleth  : 

Press  tbee  nigber  still  and  nigher, 

Urge  tbee  higber  still  and  bigher ; 

Cleave  and  cling,  nor  let  thy  hand 

Cease  to  plead,  nor  fearing  stand. 

He  thy  triumph  sees  with  gladness, 

Loves  thee  in  thy  clinging  sadness  ; 

Seems  thy  foe,  yet  ne'ertheless 

Yearns  in  His  heart  of  love  to  bless  ; 

"Willing  bears  thy  every  blow, 

That  from  His  own  pow'r  doth  now ; 

Loves  to  hear  thy  interceding, 

His  own  yoice  within  thee  pleading. 

Ah,  this  seeming  en'my  of  thine, 

Of  fierceness  giveth  thee  no  sign ; 

For  Love  no  grim  soldier  is, 

Eough  and  severe,  denying  bliss. 

Eas'ly  is  that  victory  won, 

When  the  foe  seeks  to  be  undone.  G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  191 

XXXVII. 

Quare  comedit  Hagister  vester  cum  peccatoribus,  &c. 
Matt.  ix.  11. 

Siccine  fraternos  fastidis,  improbe,  morbos, 

Cum  tuus,  et  gravior,  te  quoque  morbus  habet  1 

Tantum  ausus  medicum  morbus  sibi  quaerere,  magnus ; 
Tantum  ausus  medicum  spernere,  major  erat. 

Wherefore  eateth  your  Master  with  sinners,  <£c. 

Dost  loathe  thy  brother,  Pharisee, 

Since  his  disease  to  Christ  he  brings  ? 
And  knowest  not  that  all  men  see 

Disease  to  thee  more  deadly  clings  ? 
That  he  dare  seek  Healer  so  great, 

Shows  great  his  disease  to  be ; 
That  thou  dar'st  scorn  on  Him  to  wait, 

Shows  a  greater  cleaves  to  thee.  G. 

XXXVIII. 

In  febricitantem  et  hydropicum  sanatos.   Marc.  i.  30,  31 ; 
Luc.  xiv.  2-4. 

^STuper  lecta  gravem  extinxit  pia  pagina  febrem, 

Hydropi  siccos  dat  modo  lecta  sinus. 
Haec  vice  fraterna  quarn  se  miracula  tangunt, 

Atque  per  alternuni  fida  juvamen  amant ! 
Quippe  ignes  istos  his  quam  bene  mersit  in  undis, 

jgnibus  his  illas  quam  bene  vicit  aquas  ! 


192  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Miracles  of  healing  the  men  sick  of  fever  and  of  dropsy. 
We  read  within  the  sacred  page 
Christ  quench'd  a  fever's  burning  rage ; 
Read  that  a  dropsy's  swollen  flood 
Ebb'd  at  His  word  e'en  as  He  stood. 
Well  join'd  these  mir'cles  each  to  other, 
As  loving  brother  unto  brother  : 
How  well  these  waters  drown'd  that  flame, 
That  fire  these  waters  overcame  !  G. 

XXXIX. 

In  S.  Lucam  medicum.  Col.  iv.  14. 
Hanc,  mihi  quam  iniseram  faciunt  mea  crimina  vitam, 

Hanc,  medici,  longam  vestra  medela  facit. 
Hoc'ne  diu  est  vixisse  ?  din,  mihi  credite,  non  est 

Hoc  vixisse  ;  diu  sed  timuisse  mori. 
Tu  foliis,  Medice  alme,  tuis  medicamina  praebes, 

Et  medicaminibus,  quae  mala  summa,  malis. 
Hoc  mortem  bene  vitare  est,  vitare  ferendo. 

Et  vixisse  diu  est  hoc,  cito  posse  mori. 

To  St.  Luke  the  physician. 

This  life  my  sins  with  wretchedness  make  rife, 
Physicians  by  their  art  prolong  this  life. 
Is  this  to  live  long  time  1  I  hear  one  sigh ; 
This  is  but  fearing  a  long  time  to  die. 
Thy  leaves,  Physician  blest,  medicines  contain 
E'en  for  our  medicines  poor,  our  chiefest  bane. 


EPIGBAMMATA  SACRA.  193 

This  is  to  escape  death  well — in  death  to  lie ; 

And  this  is  to  live  long — quickly  to  die.          R.  Wi. 

XL. 

Tollat  crucem  suam,  &c.  Matt.  xxTii.  32. 
Ergo  tuam  pone ;  ut  nobis  sit  sumere  nostram  : 

Si  nostram  vis  nos  sumere,  pone  tuam. 
Ilia,  ilia,  ingenti  quae  te  tra"be  duplicat,  ilia 

Yel  nostra  est,  nostras  vel  tulit  ilia  cruces. 

He  bears  His  own  cro.s-.s-,  <£c. 
Wherefore  Thy  cross,  0  Lord,  lay  down, 

That  we  our  own  may  make  it : 
If  ours  Thou  wiliest  us  to  own, 

Thine,  Lord,  lay  down  ;  we'll  take  it : 
That,  that,  I  say,  with  its  huge  beam, 

Which  Thy  prest  body  doubles  ; 
That  cross,  e'en  that,  our  own  we  deem, 

For  it  has  borne  our  troubles. 
Our  sin  Thy  burden  sendeth ; 
Thy  cross  our  crosses  blendeth.  G. 

XLI. 

In  cygneam  D.  Jesu  cantionem.  Joan.  xvii. 
Quae  mella,  6  quot,  Christe,  favos  in  carmina  fundis  ! 

Dulcis  et,  ah  furias  !  ah,  moribundus  olor! 
Parce  tamen,  minus  hae  si  sunt  mea  gaudia  voces  : 

Voce  quidem  dulci,  sed  moriente  canis. 

VOL.  II.  O 


194  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Upon  our  Lord's  last  comfortable  discourse  with  His  disciples. 
All  Hybla's  honey,  all  that  sweetnesse  can, 
Flowes  in  Thy  song,  0  faire,  0  dying  Swan  ! 
Yet  is  the  joy  I  take  in't  small  or  none ; 
Tt  is  too  sweet  to  be  a  long-liv'd  one.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

On  the  swan-song  of  our  Lord  Jesus. 
What  songs,  like  honeycomb,  your  tongue  employ, 

Sweet  Swan  !  but  ah,  Thou  waitest  for  Death's  call. 
0  cease ;  these  sounds  are  but  a  doubtful  joy; 

'Tis  a  sweet  voice,  but  has  a  dying  fall.  G. 

XLII. 

Et  conspuebant  ilium.  Marc.  xiv.  65. 
Quid  non  tarn  foede  saevi  maris  audeat  ira  1 

Conspuit  ecce  oculos,  sydera  nostra,  tuos. 
Eorsan  et  hie  aliquis  sputo  te  excaecat,  Jesu, 

Qui  debet  sputo,  quod  videt  ipse,  tuo. 

And  they  spat  upon  Him. 

What  will  Wrath's  sea,  so  foully  fierce,  not  dare  1 
It  spits  upon  our  stars,  Thy  eyes  so  fair. 
Perchance  e'en  here  some  one  now  spits  on  Thee 
Who  to  Thy  spittle  owes  it,  he  doth  see.  G. 

XLIII. 

Eogavit  eum,  ut  descenderet  et  sanaretfilium  suum.  Joan.  iv.  47. 

Ille  ut  eat  tecum,  in  natique  tuique  salutem  ? 
Qui  petis ;  ah  nescis,  credo,  quod  ales  Amor. 


BPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  195 

Ille  ut  eat  tecum  ?  quam  se  tua  vota  morantur  ! 

Ille  ut  eat  ?  tanto  serius  esset  ibi. 
JSre  tardus  veniat,  Christus  tecum  ire  recusat : 

Christi  nempe  ipsum  hoc  ire  moratur  her. 
Christi  nempe  viis  perit  hoc  quodcunque  meatur  : 

Christi  nempe  viis  vel  properare  mora  est. 
Hie  est,  cui  tu  vota  facis  tua,  Christus  :  at  idem, 

Crede  mihi,  dabit  haec  qui  rata,  Christus  ibi  est, 

He  besought  that  He  would  go  with  him  and  heal  his  son. 
That  He  would  go  with  thee  thou  pleadest, 
As  for  thy  child  thou  intercedest. 
Ah,  little  knowest  thou  how  Love, 
Such  as  descendeth  from  Above, 
Swifter  far  is  than  feet  can  go, 
Or  any  motion  here  below. 
'  Go  with  thee  V  0  how  strange  request ! 
Thou  wouldst  later  then  be  blest. 
That  He  may  not  slowlier  come, 
Christ  will  not  travel  with  thee  home, 
For  so  to  'go'  were  to  delay; 
All  paths  unneeded  by  The  Way. 
Christ  to  Whom  thou  speakest  pleading, 
Christ  with  Whom  thou'rt  interceding, 
He  is  here,  and  yet  is  yonder, 
Swift  as  is  the  bolt  of  thunder : 
He  thy  heart's  desire  will  give  ; 
Have  thou  faith,  thy  child  shall  live.  G. 


196  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

XLIV. 

Pavor  enim  occupaverat  eum  super  capturam  piscium.  Luc.  v.  9. 

Dum  nimium  in  captis  per  te,  Petre,  piscibus  haeres, 
Piscibus,  ut  video,  captus  es  ipse  tuis. 

Rem  scio,  te  praedam  Christus  sibi  cepit :  et  illi 
Una  in  te  ex  istis  omnibus  esca  fuit. 

For  dread  came  upon  him  at  the  great  draught  of  fishes. 
Whilst,  Peter,  thou  art  so  astonished 

At  thy  draught  of  fishes, 
Methinks  thyself  by  them  art  captive  led  : 

Christ  to  catch  thee  wishes, 
So  as  one  bait  He  setteth  all  these  fishes.  G. 

XLV. 

Viderunt  et  oderunt  vie.  Joan.  xv.  24. 
Vidit  ?  et  odit  adhuc?    Ah,  te  non  vidit,  Jcsu. 

Xon  vidit  te,  qui  vidit,  et  odit  adhuc. 
Non  vidit,  te  non  vidit,  dulcissime  rerum; 

In  te  qui  vidit  quid,  quod  amare  neget. 

But  now  they  have  seen  and  hated. 
/  Scene,  ami  yet  hated  Thee  ?    They  did  not  see  ; 

They  saw  Thee  not,  that  saw  and  hated  Thee : 
1   No,  no,  they  saw  Thee  not,  0  Life,  0  Love, 
\  Who  saw  aught  in  Thee  that  their  hate  could  move.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

See  Thee,  Lord,  and  hated  still  1 
Ah,  that  were  impossible  : 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  197 

See  and  hate  ?    He  saw  Thee  never 

Who  could  see,  nor  love  for  ever. 

O  Thou,  the  all-lovely  One, 

He  hath  had  no  vision 

Who  can  see  and  hate ;  for  why, 

Speck  nor  stain  may  none  descry 

In  Thy  lowly,  lofty  Face, 

Full  of  sweetness,  love,  and  grace.  G. 

XLVI. 
Luc.  xviii.  39. 

Tu  mala  turba  tace ;  mihi  tarn  mea  vota  propinquant, 

Tuque  in  me  linguam  vis  tacuisse  meam  ? 
Tune  ego,  tune  taceam,  mihi  cum  meus  Hie  loquetur. 

Si  nescis,  oculos  vox  habet  ista  meos. 
0  noctis  miserere  meae,  miserere,  per  illam, 

Quae  tarn  laeta  tuo  ridet  in  ore  diem. 
0  noctis  miserere  meae,  miserere,  per  illam, 

Quae,  nisi  te  videat,  nox  velit  esse,  diem. 
0  noctis  miserere  meae,  miserere,  per  illam, 

Haec  mea  quam,  fidei,  nox  habet  ipsa,  diem. 
Ilia  dies  animi,  Jesu,  rogat  hanc  oculorum  : 

Illam,  oro,  dederis ;  hanc  mihi  ne  rapias. 

The  blind  suppliant. 

Be  silent,  crowd  :  my  prayers  so  near  me  come, 
And  do  you  bid  my  pleading  tongue  be  dumb 


198  EP1GRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Before  my  Lord  to  me  His  speech,  etc.1 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

Silence,  silence,  0  vile  crowd ; 

Yea,  I  will  now  cry  aloud  : 

He  comes  near,  Who  is  to  me 

Light  and  life  and  liberty. 

Silence  seek  ye  1  yes,  I'll  be 

Silent  when  He  speaks  to  me, 

He  my  Hope  ;  ah,  meek  and  still, 

I  shall  'bide  His  holy  will. 

0  crowd,  ye  it  may  surprise, 

But  His  voice  holdeth  my  eyes  : 

0  have  pity  on  my  night, 

By  the  day  that  gives  glad  light ; 

0  have  pity  on  my  night, 

By  the  day  would  lose  its  light, 

If  it  gat  not  of  Thee  sight ; 

0  have  pity  on  my  night, 

By  day  of  faith  upspringing  bright ; 

That  day  within  my  soul  that  burns, 

And  for  eyes'  day  unto  Thee  turns. 

Lord,  0  Lord,  give  me  this  day, 

Nor  do  Thou  take  that  away.  G. 

1  See  the  above  Epigram,  with  only  a  few  verbal  changes, 
at  pp.  160-1,  with  translation  by  Rev.  Richard  Wilton.     I  add 
.  my  own,  as  the  inadvertent  repetition  was  not  observed  until 
too  late.     G. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  199 


XLVII. 

In  Pharisaeos  Christi  verbis  insidiantes.  Matt.  xxii.  15. 

0  quam  te  miseri  ludunt  vaga  taedia  voti, 

Ex  ore  hoc  speras  qui,  Pharisaee,  malum  ! 
Sic  quis  ab  Aurorae  noctem  speraverit  ulnis, 

Unde  solet  primis  Sol  tener  ire  rosis  1 
Sic  Acheronta  petas  illinc  unde  amne  corusco 

Lactea  sydereos  Cynthia  lavit  equos. 
Sic  violas  aconita  roges  :  sic  toxica  nympham, 

Garrula  quae  vitreo  gurgite  vexat  humum. 
Denique,  ut  exemplo  res  haec  propriore  patescat, 

A  te  sic  speret  quis,  Pharisaee,  "bonum  ? 

The  Pharisees  insidiously  watching  the  words  of  Christ. 

O  self-baffl'd  Pharisee, 

Vainly  dost  tho'u  weary  thee, 

Hoping  at  His  holy  mouth 

To  catch  other  than  the  Truth : 

Stainless,  holy,  pure  is  He, 

Guileless  as  Simplicity. 

Who  would  e'er  expect  black  Night 

In  the  bosom  of  the  Light, 

When  the  young  sun  in  splendour  burns, 

And  the  dawn  to  roses  turns  ? 

Who,  again,  would  seek  to  mark 

Acheron  plunging  i'  the  dark, 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

Where  white  Cynthia's  starry  steeds 

Lave  them  by  the  glitt'ring  meads  1 

Who  would  aconite  think  to  get 

From  the  fragrant  violet  ? 

Or,  watching  by  the  babbling  rill 

Gushing  in  pureness  from  the  hill, 

Think  thence  poison  to  distil  ? 

In  fine,  instance  nearer  thee — 

Would  any  ever  hope  to  see 

Aught  of  good  in  Pharisee  1  G. 

XLVIII. 
Matt.  ix.  20. 

Falleris,  et  nuduni  male  ponis,  pictor,  Amorem  ; 

Non  nudum  facis  hunc,  cum  sine  veste  facis. 
^Tonne  hie  est,  dum  sic  digito  patet  ille  fideli, 

Tune  cum  vestitus,  tune  quoque  nudus  Amor  ? 

&y  Touched  the  hem  of  His  garment. 

Erringly,  painter,  thou  portrayst  Love  bare  : 
ISrot  bare  ypu  make  him,  though  no  clothes  he  wear. 
Here,  while  laid  open  to  believing  hand, 
Though  clothed  indeed,  bare  truly  see  Him  stand. 

RWi. 

XLIX. 

Tolle  oculos,  tolle,  6  tecum  tua  sydera  nostros. 
Ah  quid  enim,  quid  agant  hie  sine  sole  suo  ? 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  201 

Id  quod  agant  sine  sole  suo  tua  sydera,  coelum : 
Id  terrae  haec  age  rent  hie  sine  sole  suo. 

Ilia  suo  sine  sole  suis  caeca  imbribus  essent : 
Caeca  suis  lacrymis  haec  sine  sole  suo. 

The  departing  Saviour. 

0  take,  take  with  Thee,  Lord,  Thy  stars,  our  eyes ; 

What  would  they  do  left  here  without  their  sun  ? 
E'en  what  your  sunless  stars  would  do,  ye  skies, 

Would  here  by  sunless  stars  of  earth  be  done. 
Without  their  sun,  those  dark  with  showers  we  see ; 
These  without  sun,  dark  with  their  tears  would  be. 

E.  Wi. 

L. 

Nam  ego  non  solum  vinciri,  &c.  Act.  xxi.  13. 

Quid  mortem  objicitis  nostro,  quid  vinc'la  timori  ? 

Non  timor  est  illinc,  non  timor  inde  meus. 
Vincula,  quae  timeam,  sunt  vincula  sola  timoris  : 

Sola  timenda  mihi  est  mors,  timuisse  mori. 

Paul  unf earing. 

Why  talk  of  death  or  bonds  to  me, 
As  if  t>hese  things  a  fear  could  be  ? 
My  fear  springeth  not  from  thence ; 
Nor  in  these  is  influence 
Me  to  trouble  or  alarm, 
Me  to  fret,  or  me  to  harm. 


202 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 


The  only  bonds  that  fearful  are 

Are  the  bonds  themselves  of  fear ; 

The  only  death  looks  dreadfully, 

Is  lest  I  should  fear  to  die.  G. 

LI. 

Legatio  Baptistae  ad  Christum.  Matt.  xi. 

Oro,  quis  es  1  legat  ista  suo  Baptista  Magistro. 

Illi  quae  referant,  talia  Christus  habet. 
Cui  caecus  cernit,  mutus  se  in  verba  resolvit, 

It  claudus,  vivit  mortuus  :  oro,  quis  est  ? 

The  message  of  the  Baptist  to  Christ. 

I  ask,  Who  art  Thou  ?  is  the  Baptist's  word. 
Straight  from  his  Master  this  reply  is  heard  : 
He  by  whose  mighty  power  dumb  speak,  blind  see, 
Lame  walk,  dead  live  :  Who  is  This  ?  I  ask  tliee. 

R.  Wi. 
LII. 
Accipe  dona,  puer,  parvae  libamina  laudis ; 

Accipe,  non  meritis  accipienda  suis  : 
Accipe  dona,  puer  dulcis ;  dumque  accipis  ilia, 
Digna  quoque  efficies,  quae,  puer,  accipies. 
Sive  oculo,  sive  ilia  tua  dignabere  dextra  ; 

Dextram  oculumque  dabis  posse  decere  tuurn. 

modo  es  in  dantes,  sed  et  ipsa  in  dona  benignus ; 
Nee  tantum  donans  das,  sed  et  accipiens. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  203 

Gifts  to  Jesus. 

Take,  Lord,  these  gifts,  small  offerings  of  our  hand, 
Though  their  own  worth  acceptance  none  command. 
Take,  and  while  taking  them,  Thou  Saviour  sweet, 
E'en  what  Thou  takest,  Thou  wilt  render  meet. 
Whether  Thou  deem  them  worthy  eye  or  touch, 
Thou  wilt  be  able,  Lord,  to  make  them  such  : 
Kind  e'en  to  gifts  themselves,  as  to  those  giving, 
Thou  givest  both  when  giving  and  receiving.      K.\Vi. 

LIII. 

Inpartum  B.  Virginis  non  dijficilem. 

Nec  facta  est  tamen  ilia  parens  impune,  quod  almi 

Tarn  parcens  uteri  venerit  ille  pn.er. 
Una  haec  nascentis  quodcunque  pepercerit  hora. 

Toto  ilium  vitae  tempore  parturiit. 
Gaudia  parturientis  erat  semel  ille  parenti ; 

Quotidie  gemitus  parturientis  erat. 

On  the  blessed  Virgin's  easy  parturition. 

Xot  lightly  she  escap'd  a  mother's  doom, 

Although  her  Child  dealt  gently  with  her  womb  : 

Whate'er  was  spar'd  at  the  one  hour  of  birth, 

She  travail'd  with  Him  all  His  time  on  earth  : 

The  joy  of  childbirth  quickly  pass'd  away ; 

She  felt  the  pangs  of  childbirth  every  day.        H.  Wi. 


204  EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA. 

LIV. 

Circulus  hie  similem  quam  par  sibi  pergit  in  orbem ! 

Principiumque  suum  quam  bene  finis  amat ! 
Virgineo  thalamo  quam  pulchre  convenit  ille, 

Quo  nemo  jacuit,  virgineus  tumulus  ! 
Undique  ut  haec  aequo  passu  res  iret ;  et  ille 

Josepho  desponsatus,  et  ille  fuit. 

Upon  our  Saviour's  tombe,  wherein  never  man  was  laid. 
How  life  and  death  in  Thee 

Agree ! 
Thou  hadst  a  virgin  wombe 

And  tombe  : 
A  Joseph  did  betroth 

Them  both.  CR. 

ANOTHER  VERSION. 

See  how  a  circle  tends, 

Beginning  as  it  ends  : 

Behold  a  virgin  womb  ; 

Behold  a  virgin  tomb ; 

Behold,  and  wonder  at  the  truth, 

A  Joseph  was  espous'd  to  both  !  G. 

LV. 

In  Sanctum  igneis  llnguis  descendentem  Spiritum.   Act.  ii.  3. 
Absint,  qui  ficto  simulant  pia  pectora  vultu, 

Ignea  quos  luteo  pectore  lingua  beat. 
Hoc  potius  mea  vota  rogant,  mea  thura  petessunt, 

Ut  mihi  sit  mea  mens  ignea,  lingua  luti. 


EPIGRAMMATA  SACRA.  205 

On  the  Holy  Spirit  descending  in  fiery  tongues. 
Begone,  who  goodness  feign  with  a  false  face, 
"Whom  fiery  tongues  in  earthy  bosom  grace. 
This  rather  all  my  prayers  and  gifts  desire, 
A  tongue  of  earth,  if  but  my  heart  be  fire.         R.  Wi. 

LVI. 

LIFE  FOR  DEATH.1 

WJiosoever  will  loose  his  life,  (&c.  Matt.  xvi.  25. 
Soe  I  may  gaine  Thy  death,  my  life  I'le  giue, — 
My  life's  Thy  death,  and  in  Thy  death  I  Hue  ; 
Or  else,  my  life,  I'le  hide  thee  in  His  graue, 
By  three  daies  losse  seternally  to  saue.  CR. 

LVII. 

ON  THE  DIVINE  LOVE  :    AFTER  H.  HUGO.2 
In  amor  em  dlvinum  (Hermannus  Hugo). 
JEternall  Loue  !  what  'tis  to  loue  Thee  well, 
None  but  himselfe  who  feeles  it,  none  can  tell. 
But  oh,  what  to  be  lou'd  of  Thee  as  well, 
None,  not  himselfe  who  feeles  it,  none  can  tell.      CR. 

1  This  was  overlooked  in  its  proper  place  as  Crashaw's  own 
rendering  of  Epigram  VI.  p.  39.     G. 

7  LVI.  and  LVII.  from  Tanner  MSB.,  as  before.     G. 


PART    FIRST.       SACRED. 


III. 

HITHERTO  UNCOLLECTED. 
1648. 


NOTE. 

Whether  intentionally,  or  with  his  usual  carelessness,  the 
two  following  important  and  characteristic  Poems  are  not  given 
in  Tni-nbull's  edition ;  and  they  seem  entirely  to  have  escaped 
the  knowledge  of  even  admirers  of  Crashaw.  They  appeared 
originally  in  the  '  Steps  of  the  Temple'  of  1648  (pp.  103-105), 
and  were  naturally  excluded  from  the  Paris  collection  of  1652, 
and  overlooked  in  the  edition  of  1670.  See  their  biographic 
significance  in  our  Essay  in  the  present  Volume.  For  the  se 
cond  translation  (viz.  of  Baptismus  &c.)  I  tender  thanks  to  my 
good  friend  Kev.  J.  H.  Clark,  M.A.,  as  before;  the  other  and 
somewhat  difficult  one  (Fides  &c.)  I  have  myself  done.  G. 


FIDES,  QUAE  SOLA  JUSTIFICAT, 

NON  EST  SINE  SPE  ET  DILECTIONE. 

Nam  neque  tarn  sola  est.     0  quis  male  censor  amanis 

Jam  socias  negat  in  mutua  sceptra  manus  1 
Deme  Fidem;  nee  aget,  nee  erit  jam  nomen  Amoris: 

Et  vel  erit,  vel  aget  quid  sine  Am  ore  Fides  ? 
Ergo,  Amor,  i,  morere ;  i,  magnas,  Puer  alme,  per  umbras 

Elysiis  non  tarn  numen  inane  locis.  6 

0  "bene,  quod  pharetra  hoc  saltern  tua  praestat  et  arcus, 

Ne  tibi  in  extremos  sit  pyra  nulla  rogos  ! 
0  bene,  quod  tuus  has  saltern  tibi  providet  ignis, 

In  tu  quas  possis  funera  ferre  faces  !  10 

Durus  es,  ah,  quisquis  tarn  dulcia  vincula  sol  vis ; 

Quae  ligat,  et  quibus  est  ipse  ligatus  Amor. 
0  bene  junctarum  divortia  saeva  sororum, 

Tarn  penitus  mixtas  quae  tenuere  manus  !  14 

Nam  quae,  tarn  varia,  in  tarn  mutua  viscera  vivunt  ? 

Aut  ubi,  quae  duo  sunt,  tam  prope  sunt  eadem  ? 
Alternis  sese  circum  amplectuntur  in  ulnis  : 

Extraque  et  supra,  subter  et  intus  eunt. 
Non  tam  Nympha  tenax,  Baccho  jam  mista  marito, 

Abdidit  in  liquidos  mascula  vina  sinus.  30 

VOL.  ii.  p 


210  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Compare  jam  dempto,  saltern  sua  murmura  servat 

Turtur,  et  in  viduos  vivit  amara  modes. 
At  Fidei  sit  demptus  Amor ;  non  ilia  dolebit, 

Noin  erit  impatiens  aegraque ;  jam  moritur. 
Palma,  marem.  cui  tristis  hyems  procul  abstulit  umbram, 

Protinus  in  viridem  procubuit  faeiem1?  26 

Undique  circumfert  caput,  omnibus  annuit  Euris ; 

Siqua  maritalem  misceat  aura  comam  : 
Ah  misera,  expectat  longum,  lentumque  expirat, 

Et  demum  totis  excutitur  foliis.  30 

At  sine  Amore  Fides  nee  tantum  vivere  perstat, 

Quo  dici  possit  vel  moritura  Fides. 
Mortua  jam  nunc  est :  nisi  demum  mortua  non  est 

Corporea  haec,  anima  deficiente,  domus. 
Corpore  ab  hoc  Fidei  hanc  animam  si  demis  Amoris, 

Jam  tua  sola  quidem  est,  sed  male  sola  Fides.      36 
Heetore  ab  hoc,  currus  quern  jam  nunc  sentit  Achillis, 

Hectora  eum  speres  quern  modo  sensit  herus  ? 
Tristes  exuvias,  Oetaei  frusta  furoris, 

Vanus,  in  Alcidae  nomen  et  acta  vocas  1  40 

Vel  satis  in  monstra  haec,  plus  quam  Nemeaea,  malorum 

Hoc^Fidei  torvum  et  triste  cadaver  erit  ? 
Immo,  Fidcm  usque  suos  velut  ipse  Amor  ardet  amores; 

Sic  in  Amore  fidem  comprobat  ipsa  Fides. 

ERGO: 

Ilia  Fides  vacua  quae  sola  superbiat  aula,  45 

Quam  Spes  desperet,  quam  nee  amabit  Amor; 


POEM  AT  A  SACRA.  211 

Sola  Fides  haec,  tarn  misere,  tarn  desolate 
Sola,  quod  ad  nos  est,  sola  sit  usque  licet. 

A  sociis  quae  sola  suis,  a  se  quoque  sola  est. 

Quae  sibi  tarn  nimia  est,  sit  mihi  nulla  Fides.      50 

NOTE. 

In  line  10  we  have  corrected  an  evident  but  long-continued 
misprint  in  the  original  text  of  '  In  tu  aquas'  by  reading  '  In  tu 
quas,'  and  translate  accordingly.  G. 

TRANSLATION. 

FAITH,  WHICH  ALONE  JUSTIFIES, 
EXISTS  NOT  WITHOUT  HOPE  AND  LOVE. 

THAT  Faith  which  only  justifies 

A  sinner  as  in  guilt  he  lies, 

Bow'd  aneath  the  awful  blood, 

Clinging  to  the  uplifted  rood, 

Is  not  alone  so  as  nor  Love 

Nor  heavenly  Hope  may  in  it  move, 

To  thrill  with  touch  of  ecstasy 

The  bruised  heart,  the  swimming  eye. 

What,  censor !  bitter  to  ill  end, 
Dost  thou  thy  dogma  still  defend  ? 
And  wouldest  thou  to  hands  allied 
Mutual  sceptres  see  denied, 
Snapping  betwixt  Faith  and  Love 
The  tie  that  binds  them  from  Above  ? 
I  tell  thee  nay,  stone-hearted  one, 
The  Faith  of  Christ  is  not  alone  : 


212  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Take  Faith  away,  and  Love  will  sigh ; 
Take  Hope  away,  and  Faith  will  die ; 
Take  Faith  away,  Love  will  do  naught ; 
Take  Love  away,  and  Faith's  distraught : 
For  I  tell  thee,  vain  sophister, 
They're  as  sister  unto  sister. 

But  mark,  this  Love  that  brings  Faith  joy 
Is  not  blind  Cupid.     Ah,  bright  Boy, 
Begone ;  thou  shalt  not,  wouldst  thou,  stay ; 
Go,  get  thee  swift  from  light  o'  day; 
Go,  get  thee  now  to  the  vast  shades, 
And  there  indulge  thy  escapades  : 
Thou  in  Elysian  realms  mayst  reign 
A  fitting  deity,  not  vain  : 
Go  therefore,  and  with  thee  thy  bow 
And  quiver.     Well  it  is  below 
That  these  for  thee  shall  form  a  pyre, 
To  which  thy  torch  will  furnish  fire. 

But,  ah,  thou  hast  a  heart  of  stone, 
Who  wouldest  make  Faith  live  alone, 
Loos'ning  the  sweet  ties  Love  has  found 
To  bind4  Faith  to  her,  herself  bound. 
0,  it  is  cruel  thus  to  sever 
Sisters  whom  God  hath  joined  ever ; 
Whose  clasped  hands  so  closely  cling, 
E'en  as  vine-tendrils  ring  on  ring  : 
You  may  not  tell  there's  more  than  one, 
So  absolute  the  union. 


POEMATA  SACRA.  213 


Where  shall  you  find  beneath  the  sky 

Two  differing  so  variously, 

And  yet  each  life  in  other  bound, 

Touch  one,  the  other  you  shall  wound : 

Or  where,  'mid  all  the  pairs  on  earth, 

Twins  through  marriage  or  through  birth, 

Shall  you  find  two  so  truly  one  ? 

Arms  twining  in  affection, 

They  clasp  each  other,  chin  to  chin, 

Above,  below,  without,  within, 

Embracing  and  embrac'd  by  turns ; 

Yet  not  with  such  wild-fire  as  burns 

In  Lust's  hot  touch,  and  clasp  and  grasp 

Eager  and  stinging  as  tongue  of  asp. 

Not  so  closely  interwine 

The  graceful  Elm  and  clinging  Vine, 

When  to  bosom  of  the  tree 

Bacchus'  clusters  prest  you  see, 

And  the  Nymph  the  fruit  receives, 

And  hides  it  amid  dewy  leaves ; 

Ev'n  as  the  poets  tell  of  old, 

In  legends  of  the  Age  of  Gold. 

Faith  and  Love  know  no  such  flame, 
Their  pure  twining  brings  no  shame ; 
Look  for  taint,  you'll  find  it  missing  : 
'Tis  as  flower  flower  kissing ; 
Or  twin-roses  dewy  dripping, 
And  twin-bees  their  honey  sipping. 


214  POEMATA  SACRA. 

The  Turtle-dove,  robb'd  of  her  mate, 
Pines  and  mourns  disconsolate  ; 
Yet  still  lives  on  in  widow'd  grief, 
Knowing  at  times  Hope's  sweet  relief. 
But  Faith  when  once  of  Love  bereft 
Loses  her  all,  has  nothing  left; 
Nor  mourns  nor  frets  nor  pales — she's  dead, 
Struck  to  the  heart  astonied. 

The  Palm  that  by  the  wintry  blast 
Sees  her  companion-tree  downcast, 
Whose  mighty  shadow  o'er  her  threw 
Protection  when  the  fierce  storm  blew; 
Her  umbrage  sheds,  and  quivering 
Seeks  that  some  fav'ring  wind  would  bring 
Her  branches  with  his  boughs  to  mingle, 
Since  she  is  left  in  sadness,  single ; 
Wretched,  she  wears  and  wastes  away, 
Leaf  following  leaf  in  wan  decay, 
Until  at  last,  naked  and  bare, 
She  shivers  in  the  piercing  air; 
And  when  the  Spring  comes,  Winter  sped, 
'Tis  vain  to  call  her — she  is  dead ! 

But  when  Love  from  Faith  is  gone, 
Faith  lingers  not  still  on  and  on ; 
That  while  her  form  yet  meets  your  eye, 
You  can  pronounce  '  She'll  surely  die.' 
SHE'S  DEAD  i'  the  instant :  or  you  will 
Maintain  a  stark  corpse  liveth  still, 


POEM  AT  A  SACRA.  215 


Whose  soul  lias  pass'd  beyond  the  sky, 
Sunder'd  until  the  last  great  Cry. 
Faith  is  the  body,  Love  the  soul ; 
Take  Love  from  it,  you  take  the  whole  : 
2sTow,  now  indeed  thy  Faith's  alone, 
But  being  alone,  lo,  it  is  none. 
To  make  it  clear,  turn  Homer's  page 
That  paints  Achilles'  hate  and  rage, 
When,  having  mighty  Hector  slain, 
He  dragg'd  him  dead  over  the  plain — 
That  Hector  whom  the  chariot  feels 
Dragg'd  helpless,  lifeless  at  its  wheels, 
Was  it  the  same  who,  with  proud  crest, 
That  chariot's  lord  had  lately  prest, 
Eager  the  victory  to  wrest  1 
Hercules'  name  and  deeds  dost  see 
In  (Eta's  bloody  tragedy, 
When  dead  the  mighty  hero  lay, 
Of  jealousy  the  poison'd  prey. 
His  living  strength  the  lion  slew, 
And  hide  Nemaean  round  him  threw  : 
'Gainst  more  than  lion-rage  of  Death 
Dost  summon  the  sad  corpse  of  Faith? 
Sure  Love  with  love  for  Faith  will  burn, 
While  Faith  herself  trusts  Love  in  turn. 

THEREFORE  : 

That  Faith  alone,  lording  it  high, 
Which  Hope  despairs  of,  and  with  cry 


216 


POEMATA  SACRA. 


Of  anguish  Love  can  never  love, 

Is  not  the  Faith  sent  from  Above  : 

The  Faith  that  thus  would  be  alone, 

What  is't  to  us — desolate,  lone  1 

Faith  then,  that  loved  will  not  love 

Nor  hope — may  no  such  Faith  me  move  ! 

But  ever  in  my  bosom  lie 

Faith,  Hope,  and  Love  in  trinity : 
Yea,  Love  himself  shall  Faith's  best  lover  prove, 
And  Faith  confirm  his  strongest  faith  in  Love.          G. 


BAPTISMUS  NON  TOLLIT  FUTURA  PECCATA. 

Quisquis  es  ille  tener  modo  quern  tua  mater1  Achilles 

In  Stygis  aethereae  provida  tinxit  aquis, 
Sanus,  sed  non  securus  dimitteris  illinc  : 

In  nova  non  tutus  vulnera  vivis  adhuc. 
Mille  patent  aditus ;  et  plus  quam  calce  petendus        5 

Ad  nigri  metues  spicula  mille  dei. 
Quod  si  ejst  vera  salus,  veterem  meminisse  salutem ; 

Si  nempe  hoc  vere  est  esse,  fuisse  pium ; 
Ilia  tibi  veteres  navis  quae  vicerat  Austros, 

Si  manet  in  mediis  usque  superstes  aquis  ;  io 

Ac  dum  tu  miseros  in  littore  visis  amicos, 

Et  peccatorum  triste  sodalitium, 

1  Ecclesia.    CB. 


POEMATA  SACRA.  217 

Ilia  tibi  interea  tutis  trahet  otia  velis, 

Expectans  donee  tu  rediisse  queas  : 
Quiii  igitur  da  vina,  puer ;  da  vivere  vitae  ;  1 5 

Mitte  suum  senibus,  mitte  supercilium  ; 
Donemus  timide,  6  socii,  sua  frigora  brumae  : 

Aeternae  teneant  hie  nova  regna  rosae. 
Ah,  non  tarn  tetricos  sic  eluctabimur  Euros ; 

Effractam  non  est  sic  revocare  ratem.  20 

Has  undas  aliis  decet  ergo  extinguere  in  undis ; 

Naufragium  hoc  alio  immergere  naufragio  : 
Possit  ut  ille  malis  oculus  modo  naufragus  undis, 

Jam  lacrymis  melius  naufragus  esse  suis. 

TRANSLATION. 
BAPTISM  CANCELS  NOT  AFTER-SINS. 

0  young  Achilles,  whom  a  mother's  care 

Hath  dipp'd  as  in  a  sacred  Stygian  wave ; 
"Whole,  but  yet  not  secure,  thou  hence  dost  fare, 

For  there  are  wounds  from  which  it  will  not  save. 
A  thousand  ways  of  entrance  open  lie 

For  evil ;  not  alone  against  thy  heel 
The  prince  of  darkness  in  his  rage  lets-fly 

The  thousand  arrows  thou  mayst  dread  to  feel. 
But  if  remember'd  health  may  still  have  given 

True  health,  and  to  have  been  is  still  to  be, 
Thou  seem'st  as  one  whose  bark,  by  storms  unriven, 

Still  rides,  as  yet  unconquer'd,  on  the  sea ; 


218  POEMATA  SACRA. 

And,  while  on  shore  thy  friends  thou  visitest, 

And  the  sad  company  of  them  that  sin, 
With  furled  sails  upon  the  waves  at  rest, 

Thy  bark  floats  idly  till  thou  art  within. 
But  if  for  this  thou  criest  overbold, 

'  Bring  wine  !  enjoy  the  moment  as  it  goes  ; 
Leave  to  old  age  its  cares ;  dismiss  the  cold, 

While  in  new  realms  for  ever  reigns  the  rose  !' 
Ah,  know  that  not  in  revels  such  as  these 

Learn  we  to  struggle  with  the  spiteful  gale; 
Nor  thus  can  hope  to  rescue  from  rough  seas 

The  broken  cable  and  the  driven  sail. 
These  waves  must  in  another  wave  be  wash'd, 

This  shipwreck  in  another  shipwreck  drown'd ; 
The  eye  in  such  ill  storms  so  vilely  dashed, 

A  happier  wreck  in  its  own  tears  be  found.        CL. 


f  0ems. 

PART    FIRST.       SACRED. 


IV. 

NEVER  BEFORE  PRINTED. 


NOTE. 


The  Bancroft  MS.,  as  before,  furnishes  the  following  hitherto 
imprinted  longer  Poerns,  which  I  place  under  SACKED,  as  being 
throughout  in  subject  and  treatment  such.  The  Rev.  RICHARD 
WILTON,  M.A.,  as  before,  has  at  once  the  praise  and  responsi 
bility  of  the  translations  in  the  whole  of  this  section.  G. 


PSALMUS  I. 

0  te  te  nimis  et  irimis  beatum, 
Quem  non  lubricus  implicavit  error ; 
Nee  risu  misero  procax  tumultus. 
Tu  cum  grex  sacer  undique  execrandis 
Strident  consiliis,  nee  aure  felix ; 
Felix  non  animo,  vel  ore  mixtus, 
Haud  intelligis  impios  susurros. 
Sed  tu  deliciis  ferox  repostis 
Cultu  simplice,  sobriaque  cura 
Legem  numinis  usque  et  usque  volvis. 
Laeta  sic  fidas  colit  arbor  undas, 
Quem  immiti  violentus  aura 
Seirius  frangit,  neque  contumacis. 

NOTE. 

This  fragment  of  a  Latin  rendering  of  the  first  Psalm  may 
be  compared  with  BUCHANAN'S,  but,  I  fear,  not  to  its  advantage. 
It  were  superfluous  to  give  a  translation  of  it;  but  see  the  par 
allel  which  follows.  G. 


IRA  PEOCELLAE. 

At  tu,  profane  pulvis,  et  lusus  sacer 
Cujusvis  aurae ;  fronte  qua  tandem  feres 


222  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Vindex  tribunal  ?  quanta  turn,  et  qualis  tuae 
Moles  procellae  stabit  ?     0  quam  ferreo 
Frangere  nutu,  praeda  frontis  asperae, 
Sacrique  fulminandus  ah  procul,  proeul 
A  luce  vultus,  aureis  procul  a  locis, 
Ubi  longa  gremio  mulcet  aeterno  pios. 
Sincera  semper  pax,  et  umbrosa  super 
Insurgit  ala,  vividique  nectaris 
Imbres  beatos  rore  perpetuo  pluit. 
Sic  ille,  sic.  6  vindice,  stat  vigil, 
Et  stabit  ira  torvus  in  impios, 
Seseque  sub  mentes  bonorum 
Insinuat  facili  favore. 


TRANSLATION. 
THE  WRATH  OF  THE  JUDGMENT-WHIRLWIND. 

But  thou,  0  dust  profane,  and  of  each  aiy 

The  plaything  doom'd,  with  what  face  wilt  thou  bear 

The  Judgment- throne  ?  how  huge  a  stormy  cloud 

Will  lowfer  upon  thee  !  how  wilt  thou  be  bow'd 

With  iron  nod,  the  prey  of  frowning  Face, 

By  thunder  to  be  driven  far  off,  apace, 

From  light  of  sacred  Countenance  !  afar 

From  golden  regions,  where  the  righteous  are, 

Sooth'd  in  pure  Peace's  lap  eterne,  whose  wing 

Towers  high  above  them,  overshadowing ; 


POEM ATA  SACRA.  223 

While  happy  showers  of  nectar  sweet  imbue 
Their  lips,  as  with  an  everlasting  dew. 

The  wicked  so  His  watchful  ire  will  learn, 
And  cower  'neath  God's  avenging  countenaDce  stern ; 
The  righteous  so  His  love  divine  will  feel 
With  gentle  lapse  into  their  bosom  steal.  H.  Wi. 


CHEISTE,  VENI. 

Ergo  veni ;  quicunque  ferant  tua  signa  timores, 

Quae  nos  cunque  vocant  tristia,  Christe,  veni. 
Christe,  veni ;  suus  avulsum  rapiat  labor  axem, 

Nee  sinat  implicitas  ire  redire  vias  ; 
Mutuus  attonito  titubet  sub  foedere  inundus, 

Nee  natura  vagum  dissona  volvat  opus. 
Christe,  veni ;  roseos  ultra  remeare  per  ortus 

Nolit,  et  ambiguos  Sol  trahat  aeger  equos. 
Christe,  veni ;  ipsa  suas  patiatur  Cynthia  noctes, 

Plus  quam  Thessalico  tincta  tremore  genas  ; 
Astrorum  mala  caesaries  per  inane  dolendum 

Gaudeat,  horribili  flore  repexa  caput ; 
Sole  sub  invito  subitae  vis  improba  noctis 

Corripiat  solitam,  non  sua  jura,  diem ; 
Importuna  dies,  nee  Eoi  conscia  pacti, 

Per  desolatae  murmura  noctis  eat. 
Christe,  veni ;  tonet  Oceanus  pater,  et  sua  nolit 

Claustra  vagi  montes  sub  nova  sceptra  meent. 


'224  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Christe,  veni ;  quodcunque  audet  rnetus,  audeat  ultra 
Fata  id  agant,  quod  agant ;  tu  modo,  Christe,  veni. 

Christe,  veni ;  quacunque  venis  mercede  malorum. 
Quanti  hoc  constiterit  cunque  venire,  veni. 

Teque  tuosque  oculos  tanti  est  potuisse  videre  ! 
0  tanti  est  te  vel  sic  potuisse  frui ! 

Quicquid  id  est,  veniat.     Tu  MODO,  CHRISTE,  VENI. 

TRANSLATION. 
EVEN  SO:  COME,  LOED  JESUS. 

0  come ;  whatever  fears  Thy  standards  carry, 

Or  sorrows  summon  us,  Lord,  do  not  tarry. 

Come,  Lord ;  though  labouring  heaven  whirl  from  its 

place, 

And  its  perplexed  paths  no  more  can  trace ; 
Though  sympathising  earth  astonied  reel, 
And  nature  jarred  cease  its  round  to  wheel. 
Come,  Lord ;  though  sun  refuse  with  rosy  beam 
To  rise,  and  sickly  drives  a  doubtful  team. 
Come,  Lord ;  though  moon  look  more  aghast  at  night 
Than  whten  her  cheeks  with  panic  fear  are  white ; 
Though  ominous  comets  through  the  dolorous  air 
Hurtle,  and  round  their  brow  dread  fire-wreaths  wear ; 
Though  spite  of  struggling  sun  Night's  sudden  sway 
Impious  and  lawless  seize  the  accustom'd  day; 
Mistimed  Day,  mindless  of  eastern  glow, 
Through  meanings  of  forsaken  Night  should  go. 


POEMATA  SACRA.  225 

Come,  Lord  ;  though  father  Ocean  roars  and  lowers, 
That  his  mov'd  mountain-bars  own  other  powers. 
Come,  Lord ;  whate'er  Fear  dares,  e'en  let  it  dare  ; 
Let  Fates  do  what  they  will,  be  Thou  but  there. 
Come,  Lord  ;  with  whate'er  recompense  of  ill, 
Whate'er  Thy  coming  cost,  0  come,  Lord,  still. 
Thee  and  Thine  eyes,  0  what  'twill  be  to  see  ! 
Thee  to  enjoy  e'en  so,  what  will  that  be  ! 
Let  come  what  will,  do  Thou,  Lord,  only  come. 

R.  Wi. 


CIECUMCISIO. 

Ah  ferus,  ah  culter,  qui  tarn  bona  lilia  primus 

In  tarn  crudeles  jussit  abire  rosas; 
Virgineum  hoc  qui  primus  ebur  violavit  ab  ostro, 

Inque  sui  instituit  muricis  ingenium. 
Scilicet  hinc  olim  quicunque  cucurrerit  amnis, 

Ex  hoc  purpurei  germine  fontis  erit. 
Scilicet  hunc  mortis  primum  puer  accipit  unguem, 

Injiciunt  hodie  fata,  furorque  inanus. 
Ecce  illi  sanguis  fundi  jam  coepit ;  et  ecce 

Qui  fundi  possit,  vix  bene  sanguis  erat ; 
Excitat  e  dolio  vix  dum  bene  musta  recenti, 

Atque  rudes  furias  in  nova  membra  vocat. 
Improbus,  ut  nimias  jam  nunc  accingitur  iras, 

Annaque  non  niolli  sollicitanda  manu ; 

VOL.  IT.  . 


226  POEM ATA  SACRA. 

Jmprobus,  ut  teneras  audet  jam  ludere  mortes, 

Et  vitae  ad  modulum,  quid  puerile  mori ; 
Improbus,  ut  tragici  impatiens  praeludia  fati 

Ornat,  et  in  socco  jam  negat  ire  auo  : 
Scilicet  his  pedibus  rnanus  haec  meditata  cothurnos  ? 

Haec  cum  blanditiis  mens  meditata  minas  ? 
Haec  tarn  dura  brevem  decuere  crepundia  dextram  ? 

Dextra  giganteis  haec  satis  apta  genis  ? 
Sic  cunis  miscere  cruces  *?  cumque  ubere  matris 

Commisisse  neces  et  scelus  et  furias  1 
Quo  ridet  patri,  hoc  tacite  quoque  respicit  hastam, 

Quoque  oculo  matrem  mulcet,  in  arma  redit. 
Dii  superi,  furit  his  oculis  !  hoc  asper  in  ore  est  ! 

Dat  Marti  vultus,  quos  sibi  mallet  Amor. 
Deliciae  irarum  !  torvi,  tenera  agmina,  risus  ! 

Blande  furor !  terror  dulcis  !  amande  metus  ! 
Praecocis  in  paenas  pueri  lascivia  tristis  ! 

Cruda  rudimenta  !  et  torva  tyrocinia  ! 
Jam  parcum  breviusque  brevi  pro  corpore  vulnus, 

Proque  brevi  brevior  vulnere  sanguis  eat : 
Glim,  cum  nervi  vitaeque  ferocior  haustus 

Matefriam  morti  luxuriemque  dabunt ; 
Olim  matures  ultro  conabitur  imbres  ; 

Robustum  audebit  tune  solidumque  mori. 
Ergo  illi,  nisi  qui  in  saevos  concreverit  usus, 

Nee  nisi  quern  possit  fundere,  sanguis  erit  *? 
Euge,  puer  trux !  euge  tarn  en  mitissime  rerum  ! 

Quique  tibi  tantum  trux  potes  esse,  puer  1 


POEMATA  SACRA.  227 

Euge  tibi  trux  !  euge  mihi  mitissime  rerum  ! 

Euge  Leo  mitis  !  trux  sed  et  Agne  tamen  ! 
Macte,  puer,  macte  hoc  tarn  durae  laudis  honore  ! 

Macte,  o  paenarum  hac  indole  et  ingenio  ! 
Ah  ferus,  ah  culter,  sub  quo,  tam  docte  dolorum, 

In  tristem  properas  sic,  puer,  ire  virum. 
Ah  ferus,  ah  culter,  sub  quo,  puer  auree,  crescis, 

Mortis  proficiens  hac  quasi  sub  ferula. 

TRANSLATION. 
THE  CIRCUMCISION  OF  CHRIST. 

Ah,  fierce,  fierce  knife,  which  such  sweet  lilies  first 
Into  such  cruel  roses  made  to  burst ; 
Which  first  this  ivory  pure  with  purple  stain'd, 
And  in  the  white  a  deeper  dye  engrain'd. 
Whatever  stream  hereafter  hence  shall  flow, 
Out  of  this  purple  fountain-head  shall  grow. 
Now  first  this  tender  Child  Death's  talons  knows, 
The  Fates  and  Fury  now  hurl  their  first  blows. 
See  now  His  blood  begins  to  pour ;  and  see 
Scarce  blood  enough  to  pour  there  seems  to  be. 
Scarce  wise  to  broach  the  new  wine  from  the  wood, 
And  'gainst  those  young  limbs  call  the  Furies  rude. 
Wanton,  e'en  now  He  girds  on  woes  too  much, 
And  arms  not  to  be  tried  by  such  soft  touch  : 
Wanton,  He  dares  at  gentle  deaths  to  play, 
And  for  His  age  to  die,  as  a  child  may  : 


228  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Wanton,  beforehand  acts  His  tragic  woe, 

Restless,  refusing  in  child-step  to  go. 

Buskins  is  this  hand  shaping  for  those  feet, 

And  does  this  mind  plan  threats  with  coaxings  sweet  1 

Such  playthings  stern  does  this  small  hand  bespeak, 

And  is  it  match'd  with  giant's  iron  cheek  ? 

To  mingle  cross  with  cradle,  mother's  breast 

With  slaughter,  wickedness,  and  rage  unblest  1 

His  smiling  eye  now  glances  at  the  spear, 

And  turns  to  arms  from  soothing  mother  dear. 

God,  with  such  face  to  frown,  such  eyes  to  rage  ! 

War  wins  the  looks  which  Love  would  fain  engage. 

0  winsome  angers  !  savage  smiles — mild  brood — 

Soft  rage,  sweet  terror,  awe  which  might  be  woo'd  ! 

Sad  wanton  forwardness  of  Child  for  woes  ; 

Harsh  rudiments,  stern  training  which  He  chose  ! 

Now  scantier  wound  for  scanty  body  show, 

And  scantier  blood  for  scanty  wound  let  flow. 

Soon,  when  His  strength  and  deeper  draught  of  breath 

Shall  furnish  food  luxuriously  for  Death, 

'Twill  be  His  pleasure  then  full  showers  to  try, 

Then  will  He  strongly,  wholly  dare  to  die. 

No  blood  but  what  to  cruel  use  will  grow 

To  Him  belongs,  or  what  He  can  bid  flow. 

Ah,  cruel  Child,  though  of  all  things  most  mild, 

Yet  to  Thyself  Thou  canst  be  cruel,  Child  j 

To  Thyself  cruel,  but  most  mild  to  me ; 

A  Lion  mild,  a  pitiless  Lamb  here  see. 


POEM  AT  A  SACRA.  229 

Long,  long  may  this  stern  praise  Thine  honour  lift, 
A  faculty  for  woes1  and  innate  gift. 
Fierce  knife,  from  which  experience  sharp  He  borrows, 
While  the  Child  hastes  to  grow  the  Man  of  Sorrows  ; 
Fierce  knife,  'neath  which  Thou  draw'st  Thy  golden 

breath, 
Advancing  as  'twere  'neath  the  rod  of  Death.        K.  Wi. 


VIRGO. 

Ne,  pia,  ne  nimium,  Virgo,  permitte  querelis  : 

Haud  volet,  haud  poterit  natus  abesse  diu. 
Nam  quid  eum  teneat  ]  vel  quae  magis  oscula  vellet  ? 

Vestri  ilium  indigenam  quid  vetet  esse  sinus  1 
Quippe  illis  quae  labra  genis  magis  apta  putentur  1 

Quaeve  per  id  collum  dignior  ire  manus  ? 
His  sibi  quid  speret  puer  ambitiosius  ulmo, 

Quove  sub  amplexu  dulcius  esse  queat  ? 
0  quae  tarn  teneram  sibi  vitis  amicior  ulmum 

Implicet,  alternis  nexibus  immoriens  *? 
Cui  circum  subitis  eat  impatientior  ulnis  ? 

Aut  quae  tarn  nimiis  vultibus  ora  notet  ? 
Quae  tarn  prompta  puer  toties  super  oscula  surgat  1 

Qua  signet  gemma  nobiliore  genam  ? 
Ilia  ubi  tarn  vernis  adolescat  mitius  auris, 

Tamve  sub  apricis  pendeat  uva  jugis  ? 
*  Cf.  Wordsworth's  '  A  faculty  for  storms'  ('  Happy  Warrior').  G. 


230  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Illi  qua  veniat  languor  tarn  gratus  in  umbra  ? 

Commodius  sub  quo  murmure  somnus  agat? 
O  ubi  tarn  charo,  tarn  casto  in  carcere  regnet, 

Maternoque  simul  virgineoque  sinu, 
Ille  ut  ab  his  fugiat,  nee  tarn  bona  gaudia  vellet  ? 

Ille  ut  in  hos  possit  non  properare  sinus  ? 
Ille  sui  tarn  blanda  sinus  patrimonia  spernet  ] 

Haeres  tot  factus  tarn  bene  deliciis  ? 
Ne  tantum,  ne  Diva,  tuis  permitte  querelis  : 

Quid  dubites  ?     ISTon  est  hie  fugitivus  Amor. 


TRANSLATION. 

TO    THE   VIRGIN    MARY, 

ON  LOSING  THE  CHILD  JESUS. 

Not,  not  too  much,  Virgin,  to  plaints  give  way; 
Nor  will,  nor  can,  thy  Son  long  from  thee  stay. 
Why  should  He  ?   Where  so  love  to  be  carest  ? 
What  could  prevent  His  nestling  in  thy  breast  ? 
What  lips  more  suited  to  those  cheeks  divine  1 
What  hand  to  clasp  that  neck  more  fit  than  thine  ? 
What  could  He  hope  more  clinging  than  these  arms  ? 
Or  what  embraces  e'er  possess  such  charms  ? 
What  kindlier  vine  its  tender  elm  around 
Could  twine,  in  mutual  folds  e'en  dying  found  ? 
To  whom  with  sudden  arms  more  eager  go  ] 
Who  on  this  face  such  yearning  glances  throw  ? 


POEMATA  SACRA.  231 

Where  'mid  such  quick-rain' d  kisses  could  He  wake1?' 

Whence  His  prest  cheek  a  nobler  ruby  take  1 

Where  could  that  grape  ripen  in  airs  more  mild, 

Or  hang  'neath  hills  where  suns  so  sweetly  smil'd  ? 

Where  could  such  grateful  languor  o'er  Him  creep, 

Or  what  more  soothing  murmur  lull  to  sleep  ? 

Where  could  He  reign  in  nook  so  chaste,  so  dear, 

As  in  this  Mother's,  Virgin's  bosom  here  ? 

Could  He  fly  hence,  and  such  blest  joys  decline, 

And  could  He  help  hastening  to  breast  of  thine  1 

This  balmy  bosom's  heritage  not  share, 

Of  such  delights  so  easily  made  heir  ] 

Nay,  Lady,  nay  ;  thy  loud  complainings  stay  ; 

Be  cheer'd  :  this  is  no  Love  that  flies  away.        E.  Wi. 


APOCALYPSE  xn.  7. 

Arma,  viri !  aetheriam  quocunque  sub  ordine  pubem 

Siderei  proceres  ducitis ;  arma,  viri ! 
Quaeque  suis,  nee  queis  solita  est,  stet  dextra  sagittis ; 

Stet  gladii  saeva  luce  corusca  sui. 
Totus  adest,  totisque  mo  vet  se  major  in  iris, 

Fertque  Draco,  quicquid  vel  Draco  ferre  potest. 
Quas  secum  facies,  imae  mala  pignora  noctis ; 

Quot  secum  nigros  ducit  in  arma  deos. 
Jam  pugnas  parat,  heu  saevus  !  jam  pugnat,  et  ecce, 

Vix  potui  *  Pugnat'  dicere,  jam  cecidit. 


232  POEMATA  SACJRA. 

His  tamen  ah  nimium  est  quod  frontibus  addidit  iras 

Quod  potuit  rugas  his  posuisse  genis. 
Hoc  torvum  decus  est,  tumidique  ferocia  fati, 

Quod  magni  sceleris  mors  quoque  magna  fuit. 
Quod  neque,  si  victus,  jaceat  victoria  vilis ; 

Quod  meruit  multi  fulminis  esse  labor ; 
Quod  queat  ille  suas  hoc  inter  dicere  nammas  : 

'  Arma  tuli  frustra  :  sed  tamen  arma  tuli.' 


TRANSLATION. 

WAR  IN  HEAVEN. 
Rev.  xii.  7. 

To  arms,  ye  starry  chieftains  all,  who  lead 

The  youth  of  heaven  to  war — to  arms,  with  speed  ! 

Let  each  right-hand  its  untried  arrows  grasp, 

Or  its  own  fiercely-gleaming  falchion  clasp. 

He  is  all  here,  and  mightier  in  his  wrath, 

The  Dragon  brings  all  powers  the  Dragon  hath  : 

Strange  forms,  curst  children  of  the  deepest  Night — 

What  dusky  gods  he  marshals  to  the  fight ! 

Now  he  makes  ready,  fights  now,  fierce  as  hell ! 

Scarce  could  I  say  '  He  fights,'  when,  lo,  he  fell. 

Ah,  'twas  too  much  to  scar  with  wrath  these  faces, 

And  leave  on  angel-cheeks  such  furrow'd  traces. 

'Tis  his  grim  boast  and  proudly-swelling  fate, 

That  of  a  great  crime  e'en  the  end  was  great : 


POEMATA  SACRA.  233 

If  vanquished,  that  'twas  no  mean  victory; 

Much  bolted  thunder  there  requir'd  to  "be ; 

That  with  these  words  his  fiery  pains  he  charms  : 

'  Arms  I  bore  vainly  ;  but  I  did  bear  arms.'       K.  Wi. 

NOTE. 

See  our  Essay,  as  before,  for  relation  of  this  poein  to  the 
Sospetto  d'  Herode,  and  others.     G. 


N  ACCIPIMUS  BEEVEM  Y1TAM, 

SED  FACIMUS. 

Ergo  tu  luges  nimium  citatam 
Circulo  vitam  properante  volvi  ? 
Tu  Deos  parcos  gemis,  ipse  cum  sis 

Prodigus  aevi  ? 

Ipse  quod  perdis,  quereris  perire  ? 
Ipse  tu  pellis,  sed  et  ire  ploras  ? 
Vita  num  servit  tibi  1  servus  ipse 

Cedet  abactus. 

Est  fugax  vitae,  fateor,  fluentum  : 
Prona  sed  clivum  modo  det  voluptas, 
Amne  proclivi  magis,  et  fugace 

Labitur  unda. 

Eur  Sopor  magnam  hinc,  oculos  recludens, 
Surripit  partem,  ruit  inde  partem 


234  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Temporis  magnam  spolium  reportans 
Latro  voluptas. 

Tu  creas  mortes  tibi  mille,  et  aeva 
Plura  quo  perdas,  tibi  plura  poscis.  .  , 


TBANSLATION. 

WE  DO  NOT  RECEIVE,  BUT  MAKE,  A  SHORT  LIFE. 

Dost  tliou  lament  that  life,  urg'd-on  too  quickly, 
Rolls  round  its  course  in  hasting  revolution  1 
Dost  blame  the  thrifty  gods,  when  thou  thyself  art 

Lavish  of  lifetime  ? 

What  thyself  wastest,  mourn'st  thou  if  it  perish  ? 
Dost  drive  it  from  thee,  but  deplore  it  going  ? 
Is  life  thy  servant  ?  Sooth,  a  very  servant 

Turn'd  off  departeth. 

Life's  stream  is  fleeting — I  confess  it — always  ; 
But  once  let  Pleasure  yield  an  easy  incline, 
With  headlong  wave  and  with  more  fleeting  current 

Onward  it  glideth. 

Sleep,  the  thief,  closing  drowsy  eyelids,  snatcheth 
One  mignty  portion ;  while  as  large  a  portion 
Pleasure,  the  robber,  carries  off  unchalleng'd — 

Time's  precious  gold-dust. 
Thou  for  thyself  a  thousand  deaths  Greatest ; 
And  the  more  lifetimes  thou  dost  spend  in  folly, 
So  many  more  in  lieu  of  them  demandest ; 

Wasting  and  wanting.       R.  Wi. 


POEMATA  SACRA.  235 


BE  SANGUINE  MARTYRUM. 

Felices,  properatis  io,  properatis,  et  altam 

Vicistis  gyro  sub  breviore  viam. 
Vos  per  non  magnum  vestri  mare  sanguinis  illuc 

Cymba  tulit  nimiis  non  operosa  notis, 
Quo  nos  tarn  lento  sub  remigio  luctantes 

Ducit  in  exhaust!  vis  male  fida  freti. 
Nos  mora,  nos  longi  consumit  inertia  lethi; 

In  ludum  mortis  luxuriemque  sumus. 
Nos  aevo  et  senio  et  latis  permittimur  undis ; 

Spargimur  in  casus,  porrigimur  furiis. 
Nos  miseri  sumus  ex  amplo  spatioque  perimus ; 

In  nos  inquirunt  fata,  probantque  manus  ; 
Ingenium  fati  sumus,  ambitioque  malorum. 

Conatus  mortis  consiliumque  sumus. 
In  vitae  multo  multae  patet  area  mortis1 

Non  vitam  nobis  numerant,  quot  viximus  anni : 
Vita  brevis  nostra  est ;  sit  licet  acta  diu. 

Vivere  non  longum  est,  quod  longam  ducere  vitam  : 
Res  longa  in  vita  saepe  peracta  brevi  est. 

Nee  vos  tarn  vitae  Deus  in  compendia  misit, 
Quam  vetuit  vestrae  plus  licuisse  neci. 

1  Ms.  has  no  stop  here,  and  leaves  a  space  nearly  wide 
enough  for  a  line.  Mr.  Wilton  has  excellently  supplied  it. 
Doubtless  it  was  left  blank  by  Bancroft  in  order  to  consult  the 
Text,  or  as  unable  to  decipher  the  MS.  G. 


236  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Accedit  vitae  quicquid  decerpitur  aevo, 
Atque  illo  brevius,  quo  citius  morimur. 


TRANSLATION. 
MARTYRS. 

Good  speed  ye  made,  in  sooth,  good  speed,  ye  blest, 
And  by  a  shorter  course  won  heavenly  rest ; 
Over  a  narrow  sea  of  your  own  blood 
Death's  bark  has  borne  you,  by  few  gales  withstood  : 
While  with  slow  oars  we  toil  the  shore  to  gain, 
Through  boisterous  fury  of  the  boundless  main. 
We  waste  with  lingering,  indolent  decay; 
We  are  Death's  pastime  and  his  wanton  play ; 
O'er  time  and  age  and  wide  waves  we  are  blown, 
Expos'd  to  furies  and  to  chances  thrown. 
Wretched  in  full  are  we,  perish  at  length ; 
Fates  seek  us  out,  and  try  on  us  their  strength. 
We  are  Fate's  skill,  Evils'  ambition  fine, 
Death's  utmost  effort  and  deep-plann'd  design. 
In  a  loi%  life  wide  field  for  Death  there  lies ; 
In  a  short  life  grand  deeds  may  daze  men's  eyes.1 
By  years  we  live  we  reckon  not  our  life ; 
Our  life  is  short,  with  great  deeds  be  it  rife. 

1  I  have  ventured  to  supply  a  connecting  line  in  place  of  the 
pentameter  here  dropt  out ;  which  might  have  been  something 
like  this : 

'  Inque  brevi  vita  splendida  facta  micent.'     R.  Wi. 


POEM  ATA  SACRA.  237 

To  spend  long  years,  let  not  long  life  be  thought ; 
A  long-liv'd  deed  oft  in  short  life  is  wrought. 
God  not  so  much  contracted  your  life's  space, 
As  order'd  Death  the  sooner  to  give  place. 
What  earth's  life  loses,  gains  the  life  on  high  : 
By  how  much  sooner,  so  much  less  we  die. 

E.  Wi. 


SPES. 

Spes  diva,  salve  !  diva  avidam  tuo 
Necessitatem  numine  prorogans, 
Vindicta  fortunae  furentis, 

Una  salus  mediis  ruinis. 
Regina  quamvis,  tu  solium  facis 
Depressa  parvi  tecta  tugurii; 
Surgit  jacentes  inter ;  illic 

Firma  magis  tua  regna  constant. 
Cantus  catenis,  carmina  carcere, 
Dolore  ab  ipso  gaudiaque  exprimis : 
Scintilla  tu  vivis  sub  inio 

Pectoris,  haud  metuens  procellas. 
Tu  regna  servis,  copia  pauperi, 
Victis  triumphus,  littora  naufrago, 
Ipsisque  damnatis  patrona, 

Anchora  sub  medio  profundo. 


238  POEMATA  SACRA. 

Quin  ipse  alumnus  sum  tuus,  ubere 
Pen  dens  ab  isto,  et  hinc  aniinam  traho. 
0  Diva  nutrix,  6  foventes 
Pande  sinus,  sitiens  laboro. 

TRANSLATION. 
HOPE. 

Hail,  goddess  Hope ! 
Who  Fate  remorseless  movest 
Far  off,  and  canst  with  raging  Fortune  cope ; 
'Mid  ruin  thou  our  sole  salvation  provest. 

A  mighty  queen, 
Thy  throne  on  roof-trees  lowly 
And  prostrate  souls  is  fix'd,  and  there  are  seen 
The  firm  foundations  of  thy  kingdom  holy. 

A  gladsome  hymn 
From  fetters  disengaging, 
And  joy  from  grief,  thou  liv'st  in  bosom  dim, 
A  spark  that  laughs  at  tempests  wildly  raging. 

A  crown  to  slaves ; 
Abundance  to  the  needy; 
To  shipwreck' d  men  a  refuge  from  the  waves ; 
To  conquer' d  and  condemn'd  deliverance  speedy. 

An  *  Anchor  sure,' 
The  eternal  Eock  thou  graspest, 
The  strain  of  ocean  '  stedfast'  to  endure  ; 
And  Heaven's  calm  joys  '  within  the  veil'  thou  claspest. 


POEM ATA  SACRA.  239 

Nay,  I  thy  child, 
Dependent  here  adore  thee  : 
From  thee  I  draw  my  life,  0  Mother  mild ; 
Open  thy  fostering  bosom,  I  implore  thee.          R.  Wi. 


EI2  TON  TOT  2TEOANOT  2TEOANON. 

Ecce  tuos  lapides  !  nihil  est  pretiosius  illis ; 

Seu  pretium  capiti  dent,  capiantve  tuo. 
Scilicet  haec  ratio  vestri  diadematis  :  hoc  est, 

Unde  coronatis  vos  decet  ire  comis. 
Quisque  lapis  quanto  magis  in  se  vilis  habetur, 

Ditior  hoc  capiti  est  gemma  futura  tuo. 
Haec  est,  quae  sacra  didicit  florere  figura, 

Non  nisi  per  lacrymas  charta  videnda  tuas. 
Scilicet  ah  dices,  haec  cum  spectaveris  ora, 

Ora  sacer  sic,  6  sic  tulit  ille  pater. 
Sperabis  solitas  illinc,  pia  fulmina,  roces ; 

Sanctaque  tarn  dulci  mella  venire  via. 
Sic  erat  ilia,  suas  Famae  cum  traderet  alas, 

Ad  calamum,  dices,  sic  erat  ilia  manus. 
Tale  erat  et  pectus,  celsae  domus  ardua  mentis, 

Tale  suo  plenum  sidere  pectus  erat. 
O  bene  fallacis  mendacia  pulchra  tabellae, 

Et  qui  tarn  simili  vivit  in  aere,  labor  ! 
Cum  tu  tot  chartis  vitam,  Pater  alme,  dedisti, 

Haec  merito  vitam  charta  dat  una  tibi. 


240  TOEMATA  SACRA. 

TRANSLATION. 
ON  STEPHEN'S  CEOWN. 

[This  poem  seems  only  intelligible  by  our  supposing  that  a 
double  reference  is  intended;  first,  and  faintly,  to  St.  Stephen 
the  proto-martyr  ;  and  mainly  to  Stephens  (Stephanus),  father 
and  son,  Robert  and  Henry,  the  great  scholars,  commentators, 
printers,  and  publishers  of  the  sixteenth  century,  whose  books 
would  always  be  in  Crashaw's  hands.  Stephens,  father  and  son, 
suffered  persecution,  banishment,  poverty,  and  excommunica 
tion  alike  from  Protestants  and  Catholics,  while  engaged  in 
bringing  out  the  Bible,  Greek  Testament,  and  numerous  Classic 
Authors.  '  In  two  years  Henry  revised  and  published  more 
than  4000  pages  of  Greek  text.'  In  the  latter  years  of  his  life, 
being  driven  from  Geneva  (as  it  is  alleged)  by  the  '  petty  surveil 
lance  and  censorship  of  the  pious  pastors  there,  he  wandered 
in  poverty  over  Europe,  his  own  family  often  ignorant  where 
he  was  to  be  found.'] 

Behold  thy  stones  !  more  precious  nought  is  seen, 

Whether  they  deck  with  precious  rays  serene 

Thy  head,  or  from  it  take  a  precious  glow. 

This  is  your  style  of  diadem  ;  e'en  so 

With  crowned  locks  'tis  seemly  ye  should  go  : 

The  viler  in  itself  each  stone  may  seem, 

A  richer  gem  upon  thy  head  will  gleam. 

Behold  the  Book  where,  seen  through  mist  of  tears, 

A  sacred  form  in  manhood's  bloom  appears. 

Ah,  you  will  say,  when  you  behold  this  face, 

Such  looks,  0  such,  our  father  us'd  to  grace. 

The  accustom'd  sounds  you  hope  for — holy  thunder, 

And  the  blest  honey  hid  that  sweet  tongue  under : 


POEMATA  SACRA.  241 

So,  o'er  his  pen,  you  say,  that  hand  was  bent, 
When  her  own  wings  to  fetter'd  Fame  he  lent. 
Such  was  that  breast,  his  spirit's  lofty  dwelling — 
That  breast  with  its  own  starry  thoughts  high  swelling. 
0  pleasing  fantasies  of  picture  fair, 
And  kindred  forms  which  labour'd  brass  may  bear ! 
Since  through  thee,  Sire,  such  countless  writings  live, 
Life  unto  thee  let  this  one  writing  give.          E.  Wi. 


EXPOSTULATE  JESU  CHRISTI 

CUM  MUNDO  INGRATO. 

Sum  pulcher  :  at  nemo  tamem  me  diligit. 
Sum  nobilis  :  nemo  est  mihi  qui  serviat. 
Sum  dives  :  a  me  nemo  quicquam  postulat. 
Et  cuncta  possum  :  nemo  me  tamen  timet. 
Aeternus  exsto  :  quaeror  a  paucissimis. 
Prudensque  sum  :  sed  me  quis  est  qui  consulit  ? 
Et  sum  Yia  :  at  per  me  quotusquisque  ambulat  1 
Sum  Y eritas  :  quare  mihi  non  creditur  ? 
Sum  Vita  :  verum  rarus  est  qui  me  petit. 
Sam  Vera  Lux :  videre  me  nemo  cup  it. 
Sum  misericors  :  nullus  fidem  in  me  collocat. 
Tu,  si  peris,  non  id  mihi  imputes,  homo  : 
Salus  tibi  est  a  me  parata  :  hac  utere.1 

1  From  '  The  Kecommendation'  illustration  in  '  Carmen  D. 
nostro'  (Paris,  1652).     See  vol.  i.  in  4to,  p.  43.     G. 

VOL.  II.  r 


242  POEMATA  SACRA. 

TRANSLATION. 

JESUS  CHRIST'S  EXPOSTULATION 

WITH  AN  UNGRATEFUL  WORLD. 

I  am  all-fair,  yet  no  one  loveth  Me  : 

Noble,  yet  no  one  would  My  servant  be : 

Rich,  yet  no  suppliant  at  My  gate  appears  : 

Almighty,  yet  before  Me  no  one  fears  : 

Eternal,  I  by  very  few  am  sought : 

Wise  am  I,  yet  My  counsel  goes  for  nought : 

I  am  the  Way,  yet  by  Me  walks  scarce  one  : 

The  Truth,  why  am  I  not  relied  upon  ? 

The  Life,  yet  seldom  one  My  help  requires  : 

The  True  Light,  yet  to  see  Me  none  desires  : 

And  I  am  merciful,  yet  none  is  known 

To  place  his  confidence  in  Me  alone. 

Man,  if  thou  perish,  'tis  that  thou  dost  choose  it ;  , 

Salvation  I  have  wrought  for  thee,  0  use  it !      K.  Wi. 


PART    SECOND.       SECULAR. 


FROM  '  STEPS  TO  THE  TEMPLE1  AND  '  DELIGHTS  OF  THE  MUSES, 
ETC. 

1646-1648. 


NOTE. 

Among  the  English  poems  of  the  '  Steps  to  the  Temple'  and 
'  Delights  of  the  Muses'  of  1646  were  the  following,  in  order : 
In  Picturam  Eeverendissimi  Episcopi  D.  Andrews  (p.  89) — 
Epitaphium  in  Dominion  Herrisium  (pp.  92-3) — Prmcipi  recens 
natae  omen  maternae  indolis  (pp.  108-9) — In  Serenissimae 
Reginae  partum  hyemalem  (pp.  118-9) — AdReginam  (pp.  121-2) 
— In  faciem  Augustiss.  Regis  a  morbillis  integram  (p.  127) — Rex 
Redux  (pp.  131-2),  and  Ad  Principem  nondum  natum  (p.  133). 
In  the  enlarged  edition  of  1648  hesides  these,  there  appeared : 
Bulla  (pp.  54-58)  —  Thesaurus  Malorum  Foemina  (p.  59)  — In 
Apollinea  depereuntem  Daphnen  (pp.  60-1)— Aeneas  Patris  sui 
Bajulus  (p.  61) — In  Pygmaliona  (p.  61) — Arion  (pp.  61-2)  — 
Phoenicis  Genethliacon  et  Epicedion  (p.  63) — Epitaphium  (p.  64) 
— Damno  affici  saepe  fit  Lucrum  (pp.  64-5) — Humanae  Vitae 
Descriptio  (p.  65) — Tranquillitas  Animi,  Siniilitudine  ducta  ab 
Ave  captiva  et  canora  tamen  (pp.  66-7). 

These  Poems  I  have  arranged  under  two  classes :  (a)  Mis 
cellaneous,  really,  not  merely  formally,  poetry:  (6)  Royal  and 
other  commemorative  pieces.  The  former  in  the  present  sec 
tion,  the  latter  in  the  next.  See  our  Essay  on  each.  Nearly 
the  whole  of  the  translations  in  this  division  are  by  myself,  with 
additional  renderings  of  some  by  Rev.  Thomas  Ashe,  M.A.,  as 
before,  and  others  by  Rev.  Richard  Wilton,  M.A.,  as  before,  as 
pointed  out  in  the  places. 

As  before,  I  note  here  the  more  misleading  errors  of  Turnbull's 
text.  In  'Bulla,'  1.  1,  '  timores'  for  'tumores;'  1.  4,  'dextera 
mihi'  for  '  dextra  mei ;'  1.  54,  '  nitent'  for  '  niteat  ;*  1.  80,  '  avis' 
for  '  uvis  ;'  1.  84,  '  nives'  for  '  niveae  ;'  1.  85,  '  sint'  for  '  sunt ;' 
1.  154,  '  desinet'  for  'defluet;'  1.  157,  '  Tempe'  for'Nempe:'  in 
Tranquillitas  Animi,'  1.  13,  '  minis  minisque'  for  'nimis  nimis- 
que  ;'  1.16,  'patrisque'  for  '  patreaeque  ;'  1.  20,  'provocabit'  for 
'provocabat:'  in  '  Humanae  Vitae  Descriptio,'  1.  13,  'more'  for 
'mare:'  in  'Apollinea  depereuntem  Daphnen,'  1.  12,  'ores'  for 
'  oris  :'  in  Phoenicis  Genethliacon  et  Epicedion,'  1.  5,  '  teipsum' 
for  '  teipsam :'  in  '  Epitaphium,'  1.  6,  '  tremulum'  for  '  tremu- 
lam;'  1.  7,  '  discas'  for  '  disces,'  'hinc'  for  'hue,'  and  '  reponas' 
for  'repones;'  1. 10,  'miseris'  for  '  nimis  :'  in  '  Thesaurus  Ma 
lorum  Foemina,'  1.  16,  '  Pietas'  for  '  Pectus.'  G. 


BULLA. 

QUID  tibi  vana  suos  offert  mea  Bulla  tumores  ] 

Quid  facit  ad  vestrum  pondus  inane  meum  1 
Expectat  nostros  humeros  toga  fortior.     Ista 
En  mea  Bulla,  lares  en  tua  dextra  mei. 

Quid  tu  ]  quae  nova  machina,  5 

Quae  tarn  fortuito  globo 

In  vitam  properas  brevem  1 

Qualis  virgineos  adhuc 

Cypris  concutiens  sinus, 

Cypris  jam  nova,  jam  recens,  10 

Et  spumis  media  in  suis, 

Promsit  purpureum  latus ; 

Concha  de  patria  micas, 

Pulchroque  exsilis  impetu ; 

Statim  et  millibus  ebria  15 

Ducens  terga  coloribus 

Evolvis  tumidos  sinus 

Spliaera  plena  volubili. 

Cujus  per  varium  latus, 

Cujus  per  teretem  globum  20 

Iris  lubrica  cursitans 

Centum  per  species  vagas, 


246  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Et  picti  facies  chori 

Circum  regnat,  et  undique, 

Et  se  Diva  volatilis  2  = 

Jucundo  levis  impetu 

Et  vertigine  perfida 

Lasciva  sequitur  fuga, 

Et  pulchre  dubitat ;  fluit 

Tarn  fallax  toties  no  vis,  30 

Tot  se  per  reduces  vias, 

Erroresque  reciprocos 

Spargit  vena  coloribus ; 

Et  pompa  natat  ebria. 

Tali  militia  micans  35 

Agmen  se  rude  dividit ; 

Campis  quippe  volantibus, 

Et  campi  levis  aequore 

Ordo  insanus  obambulans 

Passim  se  fugit,  et  fugat.  40 

Passim  perdit,  et  invenit. 

Pulchrum  spargitur  hie  Chaos. 

Hie  viva,  hie  vaga  flumina 

Ripa  non  propria  meant, 

Sed  miscent  socias  vias,  45 

Communique  sub  alveo 

Stipant  delicias  suas. 

Quarum  proximitas  vaga 

Tarn  discrimine  lubrico, 

Tarn  subtilibus  arguit  50 


BULL  A.  247 

Juncturam  tenuem  notis, 

Pompa  ut  florida  nullibi 

Sinceras  habeat  vias ; 

Nee  vultu  niteat  suo. 

Sed  dulcis  cumulus  novos  55 

Miscens  purpureus  sinus 

Flagrant  divitiis  suis, 

Privatum  renuens  jubar. 

Floris  diluvio  vagi, 

Floris  sidere  publico  60 

Late  ver  subit  aureum, 

Atque  effunditur  in  suae 

Vires  undique  copiae. 

Nenipe  omnis  quia  cernitur, 

Nullus  cernitur  hie  color,  65 

Et  vicinia  contumax 

_Allidit  species  vagas. 

Illic  contiguis  aquis 

Marcent  pallidulae  faces. 

Unde  hie  vena  tenellulae,  70 

Flammis  ebria  proximis 

Discit  purpureas  vias, 

Et  rubro  salit  alveo, 

Ostri  sanguineum  jubar 

Lambunt  lactea  numina ;  75 

Suasu  caerulei  maris 

Mansuescit  seges  aurea; 

Et  lucis  faciles  genae 


248  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Vanas  ad  nebulas  stupent ; 

Subque  uvis  rubicundulis  80 

Flagrant  sobria  lilia ; 

Vicinis  adeo  rosis 

Vicinae  invigilant  nives ; 

Ut  sint  et  niveae  rosae, 

Ut  sunt  et  roseae  nives,  85 

Aceenduntque  rosae  nives, 

Extinguuntque  nives  rosas. 

Illic  cum  viridi  rubet, 

Hie  et  cum  rutile  viret, 

Lascivi  facies  chori.  90 

Et  quicquid  rota  lubriea 

Caudae  stelligerae  notat, 

Pulclirum  pergit  et  in  ambitum. 

Hie  coeli  implicitus  labor, 

Orbes  orbibus  obvii ;  95 

Hie  grex  velleris  aurei, 

Grex  pellucidus  aetheris ; 

Qui  noctis  nigra  pascua 

Puris  morsibus  atterit ; 

H!C  quicquid  nitidum  et  vagum  100 

Coeli  vibrat  arenula, 

Dulci  pingitur  in  joco ; 

Hie  mundus  tener  impedit 

Sese  amplexibus  in  suis. 

Succinctique  sinu  globi  105 

Errat  per  proprium  decus. 


BULLA.  249 

Hie  nictant  subitae  faces, 

Et  ludunt  tremulum  diem, 

Mox  se  surripiunt  sui  et 

Quaerunt  tecta  supercili,  no 

Atque  abdunt  petulans  jubar, 

Subsiduntque  proterviter. 

Atque  haec  omnia  quam  brevis 

Sunt  mendacia  machinae  ! 

Currunt  scilicet  omnia  115 

Sphaera,  non  vitrea  quidem — 

Ut  quondam  Siculus  globus — 

Sed  vitro  nitida  magis, 

Sed  vitro  fragili  magis, 

Et  vitro  vitrea  magis.  120 

Sum  venti  ingenium  breve, 
Flos  sum,  scilicet,  aeris, 
Sidus  scilicet  aequoris ; 
Naturae  jocus  aureus, 

Naturae  vaga  fabula,  125 

Naturae  breve  somnium. 
Nugarum  decus  et  dolor ; 
Dulcis  doctaque  vanitas. 
Aurae  filia  perfidae ; 

Et  risus  facilis  parens.  130 

Tantum  gutta  superbior, 
Eortunatius  et  lutum. 

Sum  fluxae  pretium  spei ; 
Una  ex  Hesperidum  insulis. 


250  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Formae  pyxis,  amantium  135 

Clare  caecus  ocellulus ; 
Vanae  et  cor  leve  gloriae. 

Sum  caecae  speculum  Deae, 
Sum  Fortunae  ego  tessera, 
Quam  dat  militibus  suis ;  1 40 

Sum  Fortunae  ego  symbolum, 
Quo  sancit  fragilem  fidem 
Cum  mortalibus  ebriis, 
Obsignatque  tabellulas. 

Sum  blandum,  petulans,  vaguin,  145 

Pulchrum,  purpureum,  et  decens, 
Comptum,  floridulum,  et  recens, 
Distinctum  nivibus,  rosis, 
Undis,  ignibus,  aere, 

Pictum,  gemmeum,  et  aureum,  150 

O  sum,  scilicet,  6  NIHIL. 
Si  piget,  et  longam  traxisse  in  taedia  pompam 

Yivax,  et  nimium  Bulla  videtur  anus  : 
Tolle  tuos  oculos  pensum  leve  defluet,  illam 

Parca  metet  facili  non  operosa  manu.  155 

Vixit  adhlic.     Cur  vixit  ?  adhuc  tu  nempe  legebas. 
Nempe  fuit  tempus  turn  potuisse  mori  ? 

NOTE. 

A  collation  of  the  '  Bulla'  with  the  Tanner  MS.  corrects  the 
punctuation  of  the  original  and  subsequent  printed  texts,  and 
specially  puts  right  in  the  last  line  '  Nempe'  for  '  Tempe,'  so  long 
retained.  In  the  fourth  line  from  close  the  printed  texts  read 
'  desinet'  for  '  defluet. '  Nothing  else  noticeable.  G. 


TRANSLATION.     THE  BUBBLE.     [TO  EEV.  DR.  LANT.] 

What  art  thou  1  What  new  device, 

Globe,  chance-fashion'd  in  a  trice, 

Into  brief  existence  bounding, 

Perfectly  thy  circle  rounding  ] 

As  when  Cypris,  her  breast  smiting — 

Virgin  still,  all  love  inviting — 

Cypris  in  young  loveliness 

Couch'd  rosy  where  the  white  waves  press 

Her  to  bear  and  her  to  bless ; 

So  forth  from  thy  native  shell 

Gleamest  thou  ineffable  ! 

Springing  up  with  graceful  bound 

And  describing  dainty  round ; 

Thousand  colours  come  and  go 

As  thou  dost  thy  fair  curves  show, 

Swelling  out — a  whirling  ball 

Meet  for  Fairy-Festival ; 

Through  whose  sides  of  shifting  hue, 

Through  whose  smooth-turn'd  globe,  we  view 

Iris'  gliding  rainbow  sitting, 

In  a  hundred  forms  soft-flitting  : 

And  semblance  of  a  troop  displaying, 


252  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

All  around  dominion  swaying  : 

And  the  Goddess  volatile 

With  witching  step  and  luring  smile 

Follows  still  with  twinkling  foot 

In  link'd  mazes  involute  : 

With  many  a  sight-deceiving  turn 

And  flight  which  makes  pursuers  burn, 

And  a  graceful  hesitation — 

Only  treacherous  simulation  : 

JUST  so,  and  no  less  deceiving, 

Our  BUBBLE,  all  its  colours  weaving, 

Follows  ever-varying  courses, 

Or  in  air  itself  disperses  : 

Here  now,  there  now,  coming,  going, 

Wand'ring  as  if  ebbing,  flowing  : 

Sporting  Passion's  colours  all 

In  ways  that  are  bacchanal ; 

And  the  GLOBES  undisciplin'd 

As  though  driven  by  the  wind, 

Borne  along  the  fleeting  plains 

Light  as  air ;  nor  order  reigns — 

But  the  heaven-possess'd  array 

Moving  each  in  its  own  way, 

Hither  now  and  thither  flying, 

Glancing,  wavering,  and  dying, 

Losing  still  their  path  and  finding, 

In  a  random  inter- winding  : 

Rising,  falling,  on  careering, 


THE  BUBBLE.  253 


Vis'ble  now,  now  disappearing ; 

Living  wand'ring  streams  outgoing, 

Ev'n  Confusion  beauteous  showing  : 

Flowing  not  each  in  its  course, 

But  each  to  other  joining  force; 

Moving  in  pleasant  pastime  still 

In  a  mutual  good-will : 

And  a  nearness  that's  so  near 

You  the  contact  almost  fear, 

Yet  so  finely  drawn  to  eye 

In  its  delicate  subtlety 

That  the  procession,  blossom-fair, 

Nowhere  has  direction  clear  : 

Nor  with  their  own  aspect  glance, 

But  in  the  sweet  luxuriance 

Which  skiey  influences  lend, 

As  in  new  windings  on  they  trend  : 

Throwing  off  the  stol'n  sunlight 

In  a  flood  of  blossoms  bright, 

Scatter' d  on  the  fields  of  light ; 

Such  a  brilliancy  of  bloom 

As  all  may  share  if  all  will  come. 

Now  golden  Spring  advances  lightly, 

Spreading  itself  on  all  sides  brightly, 

Out  of  its  rich  and  full  supply 

Open-handed,  lavishly. 

Since  all  colours  you  discern7|    ,J  itf 
No  one  colour  may  you  learn  : 


254  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

All  tints  melted  into  one 

In  a  sweet  confusion, 

You  cannot  tell  'tis  that  or  this, 

So  shifting  is  the  loveliness  : 

Gleams  as  of  the  peacock's  crest, 

Or  such  as  on  dove's  neck  rest; 

Opal,  edg'd  with  amethyst, 

Or  the  sunset's  purpl'd  mist, 

Or  the  splendour  that  there  lies 

In  a  maiden's  azure  eyes, 

Kindling  in  a  sweet  surprise : 

Flower-tints,  shell-tints,  tender-dy'd, 

Save  to  curious  unespied  : 

Lo,  one  BUBBLE  follows  t'other, 

Differing  still  from  its  frail  brother, 

Striking  still  from  change  to  change 

With  a  quick  and  vivid  range. 

There  in  the  contiguous  wave 

Torches  palely-glist'ning  lave ; 

Here  what  delicate  love-lights  shine  ! 

Through  them  near  flames  bick'ring  shine. 

Matching  flushing  of  the  rose, 

As  the  ruddy  channel  flows  : 

Milky  rivers  in  white  tide 

Lucent,  hush,  still  onwards  glide  : 

Purple  rivers  in  high  flood — 

Red  as  is  man's  awful  blood : 

Corn-fields  smiling  goldenly 


THE  BUBBLE.  255 


Meet  the  blue  laugh  of  the  sea  : 
Mist-clouds  sailing  on  their  way 
Darken  the  changeful  cheeks  of  Day : 
And  beneath  vine-clusters  red 
Lilies  are  transfigured : 
Here  you  mark  as  'twere  the  snows 
Folding  o'er  the  neighb'ring  rose  ; 
Snow  into  blown  roses  flushing, 
Roses  wearied  of  their  blushing, 
As  the  shifting  tints  embrace, 
And  their  course  you  scarce  can  trace ; 
Now  retiring,  now  advancing, 
Now  in  wanton  mazes  dancing ; 
Now  a  flow'ry  red  appears, 
Now  a  purpl'd  green  careers. 

All  the  signs  in  heaven  that  burn 
Where  the  gliding  wheel  doth  turn, 
Here  in  radiant  courses  go, 
As  though  'twere  a  heaven  below  : 
The  sky's  mazes  involute 
Circling  onward  with  deft  foot, 
Sphere  on  heavenly  sphere  attending, 
Coming,  going,  inter-blending : 
And  the  gold-fleec'd  flocks  of  air 
Wand'ring  inviolate  and  fair; 
Flocks  that  drink  in  chaste  delight 
Dewy  pastures  of  the  Night, 
Leaving  no  trace  of  foot  or  bite. 


256  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

"Whate'er  of  change  above  you  note, 
As  these  clouds  o'er  heaven  float, 
Lo,  repeated  here  we  see 
In  a  sportive  mimicry. 

Here  the  tiny  tender  world 
Within  its  own  brightness  furl'd 
Wavers,  as  in  fairy  robe 
'Twere  a  belted  lined  globe. 
Lights  as  of  the  breaking  Day 
Tremble  with  iridescent  play, 
But  now  swiftly  upward  going, 
Evanescent  colours  showing, 
In  some  nook  their  beams  concealing, 
Nor  their  wantonness  revealing. 
0,  what  store  of  wonders  here 
In  this  short-liv'd  slender  SPHERE  ! 
For  all  wonders  I  have  told 
Are  within  its  GLOBE  enroll'd : 
Not  such  globe  as  skilled  he 
Fashion'd  of  old  in  Sicily  : 
Brighter  e'en  than  crystals  are, 
And  thaii  crystal  frailer  far. 

'  I  am  Spirit  of  the  Wind, 
For  a  flitting  breath  design' d ; 
I  am  Blossom  born  of  air ; 
I'm  of  Ocean,  guiding  Star ; 
I'm  a  golden  sport  of  Nature, 
Frolic  stamp'd  on  ev'ry  feature : 


THE  BUBBLE.  257 


Fm  a  myth,  an  idle  theme, 
The  brief  substance  of  a  dream : 
Grace  and  grief  of  trifles,  I 
Charm — a  well-skill'd  vanity ; 
Begotten  of  the  treacherous  breeze, 
Parent  of  absurdities : 
Yet,  a  drop  or  mote,  at  best, 
Favour'd  more  than  are  the  rest 
I'm  price  of  Hope  that  no  more  is, 
One  of  the  Hesperides : 
Beauty's  casket,  doating  eye 
Of  lovers  blinded  wilfully: 
The  light  Spirit  of  Vanity. 
I  am  Fortune's  looking-glass, 
The  countersign  which  she  doth  pass 
To  her  troop  of  warriors  : 
I'm  the  oath  by  which  she  swears, 
And  wherewith  she  doth  induce 
Men  to  trust  a  fragile  truce. 
-Charming,  provoking,  still  astray, 
Fair  and  elegant  and  gay, 
Trim  and  fresh  and  blossom-hu'd; 
Interchangeably  imbu'd 
With  rosy-red  and  the  snow's  whiteness, 
Air  and  water  and  fire's  brightness : 
Painted,  gemm'd,  of  golden  dye, 
NOTHING — after  all — am  I !' 

VOL.  II. 


258  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

If  now,  0  gentle  Reader,  it  appear 

Irksome  my  BUBBLE'S  chatterings  to  hear  ; 
If  on  it  frowning,  '  Words,  words,  words  !'  thou  say, 

No  more  I'll  chatter,  but  at  once  obey. 
So,  turn  thine  eye,  my  Friend,  no  more  give  heed ; 

My  BUBBLE  lives  but  if  thou  choose  to  read. 
Cease  thou  to  read,  and  I  resign  my  breath ; 

Cease  thou  to  read,  and  that  will  be  my  death.    G. 


TRANQUILLITAS  ANIMI : 

SIMTLITUDINE  DUCTA  AB  AVE  CAPTIVA,  ET  CANOBA  TAMEN. 

Ut  cum  delicias  leves,  loquacem 

Convivam  nemoris  vagamque  musam 

Observans,  dubia  viator  arte 

Prendit  desuper  :  horridusve  ruris 

Eversor,  male  perfido  paratu,  5 

Heu  durus  !  rapit,  atque  io  triumphans 

Yadit :  protinus  et  sagace  nisu 

Evolvent  digitos,  opus  tenellum 

Ducens  pollice  lenis  erudito, 

Virgarum  implicat  ordinem  severum,  io 

Angustam  meditans  domum  volucri. 

Ilia  autem,  hospitium  licet  vetustum 

Mentem  solicitet  nimis  nimisque, 

Et  suetum  nemus,  hinc  opaca  mitis 


TRANQUILLITAS  AXIMI.  259 

Umbrae  frigora,  et  hinc  aprica  puri  15 

Solis  fulgura,  patriaeque  sylvae 

Nunquam  muta  quies  ;  ubi  ilia  dudum 

Totum  per  nemus,  arborem  per  omnem, 

Hospes  libera  liberis  querelis 

Cognatuin  bene  provocabat  agmen  :  20 

Quanquam  ipsum  nemus  arboresque  alumnam 

Implorant  profugam,  atque  amata  multum 

Quaerant  murmura  lubricumque  carmen 

Blandi  gutturis  et  melos  serenum. 

Ilia  autem,  tamen,  ilia  jam  relictae,  25 

Simplex  !  hand  meminit  domus,  nee  ultra 

Sylvas  cogitat ;  at  brevi  sub  antro, 

Ah  penna  nimium  brevis  recisa, 

Ah  ritu  vidua  sibique  sola, 

Privata  hen  fidicen  !  canit,  vagoque  30 

Exercens  querulam  domum  susurro 

Fallit  vincula,  carceremque  mulcet ; 

JN"ec  pugnans  placidae  procax  quieti 

Luctatur  gravis,  orbe  sed  reducto 

Discursu  vaga  saltitans  tenello,  35 

Metitur  spatia  invidae  cavernae. 

Sic  in  se  pia  mens  reposta.  secum 

Alte  tuta  sedet,  nee  ardet  extra, 

Aut  ullo  solet  aestuare  fato  : 

Quamvis  cuncta  tumultuentur,  atrae  40 

Sortis  turbine  non  movetur  ilia. 

Fortunae  furias  onusque  triste 


260  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

.Noil  tergo  minus  accipit  quieto, 

<^uam  vectrix  Veneris  columba  blando 

Admittat  juga  delicata  collo.  45 

Torvae  si  quid  inhorruit  procellae, 

Si  quid  saeviat  et  minetur,  ilia 

Spernit,  nescit,  et  obviis  furorem 

Fallit  blanditiis,  amatque  et  ambit 

fpsum,  quo  male  vulneratur,  ictuni.  50 

Curas  murmure  non  fatetur  ullo  ; 

Xon  lambit  laerymas  dolor,  nee  atrae 

Mentis  nubila  frons  iniqua  prodit. 

t^uod  si  lacryma  pervicax  rebelli 

Erumpit  tamen  evolatque  gutta,  55 

Invitis  lacrymis,  negante  luctu, 

Ludunt  perspicui  per  ora  risus. 

TRANSLATION.     PEACE  OF  MIND:1 

UNDER  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  CAPTIVE   SONG-BIRD. 

The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come  ; 
1  will  away  i'  the  greenwood  to  roam ; 
I  will  away ;  and  thou  azure-ey'd  Muse 
Deign  wiXh  thy  gifts  my  mind  to  suffuse. — 
So  o'erheard  I  one  say,  as  he  withdrew 
To  a  fairy  scene  that  well  I  knew, 
Light  lac'd  with  shadow,  shadow  with  light, 
Leaves  playing  bo-peep  from  morn  unto  night. 

1  See  Illustration  (in  4to)  by  Mrs.  Blackburn  to  11.  13-14  as 
vignette  in  Essay.     G. 


PEACE  OF  MIND.  261 

But,  ah,  what  is  this  ?     Alas,  and  alas, 
A  sweet  bird  flutters  upon  the  grass ; 
Flutters  and  struggles  with  quivering  wing  ! 
Tempted  and  snar'd — gentle,  guileless  thing. 
Vain,  vain  thy  struggles ;  for,  lo,  a  hand 
Hollow'd  above,  makes  thee  captive  stand. 

Home  hies  the  Captor,  loud  singing  his  joy  ; 
He  has  got  a  pet  song-bird  for  his  boy. 
Xow  twining  and  twisting,  a  cage  he  makes 
Wire-wrought  and  fast'n'd.     Ah,  my  heart  aches ! 
It  is  a  prison,  for  the  poor  bird  prepar'd ; 
Shut  close  and  netted,  netted  and  barr'd. 

Comes  the  flutter  and  gleam  of  forest-leaves 
Through  the  trellis'd  window  under  the  eaves ; 
Comes  the  breath  and  stir  of  the  vernal  wind, 
Comes  the  goldening  sunshine — to  remind 
Of  all  that  is  lost ;  comes  now  and  again 
Far  off  a  song  from  the  blading  grain  ; 
Calling,  still  calling  the  Songster  to  come 
Back — once  more  back — to  its  woodland  home. 

I  mark  eyelids  rise  ;  mark  the  lifting  wing  ; 
Mark  the  swelling  throat,  as  if  it  would  sing ; 
Mark  the  weary  '  chirp,  chirp/  like  infant's  cry, 
Yearning  after  the  free  and  boundless  sky ; 
For  the  grand  old  woods ;  once  more  to  sit 
On  the  swinging  bough  into  blossom  smit. 

Vain,  vain,  poor  bird  !  thou'rt  captive  still ; 
Thou  must  bend  thee  to  thy  Captor's  will : 


262  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Thy  wing  is  cut ;  from  thy  mate  thou'rt  taken  ; 
All  alone  thou  abidest,  sad,  forsaken. 

The  days  pass  on ;  and  I  look  in  once  more 
On  the  captive  bird  'bove  the  ivied  door. 
Sweetly  it  sings,  as  if  all  by  itself, 
A  short,  quiet  song.     0  thou  silly  elf, 
Hast  forgot  the  greenwood,  the  forest  hoar, 
The  flash  of  the  sky,  the  wind's  soften'd  roar  ? 
Hast  forgot  that  thou  still  a  captive  art, 
Prison'd  in  wire-work  ?  hast  forgot  thy  smart  ? 

'Tis  even  so  :  for  now  down,  and  now  up, 
JS"ow  hopping  on  perch,  now  sipping  from  cup, 
I  mark  it  sullen  and  pining  no  more, 
But  keeping  within,  though  open  the  door. 
List  ye,  now  list — from  its  swelling  throat, 
Of  its  woodland  song  you  miss  never  a  note. 
Alone,  it  is  true,  and  in  a  wir'd  cage ; 
But  kindness  has  melted  the  captive's  rage. 

Behold  a  sweet  meaning  in  this  bird's  story - 
How  the  child  of  God  is  ripen'd  for  glory  : 
For  it  i|  thus  with  the  child  of  God, 
Smitten  and  bleeding  'neath  His  rod  : 
Thus  'tis  with  him  ;  for,  tranquil  and  calm 
'Mid  dangers  and  insults,  he  singeth  his  psalm : 
Alone,  all  alone,  deserted  of  man, 
Slander'd  and  trampl'd  and  plac'd  under  ban, 
He  frets  not,  he  pines  not,  he  plains  not  still, 
But  sees  clear  in  all  his  dear  Father's  will : 


DAMNO  AFFICIT  FIT  LUCRUM.  263 

Come  loss,  come  cross,  come  bereavement,  come  wrong, 
He  sets  all  to  music,  turns  all  to  song ; 
Come  terror,  come  trial,  come  dark  day,  come  bright, 
Still  upward  he  looks,  and  knows  all  is  right : 
Wounded,  he  sees  the  Hand  gives  the  stroke, 
Bending  his  neck  to  bear  his  Lord's  yoke, 
And  finds  it  grow  light,  by  grace  from  Above, 
As  love's  slender  collars  o'  the  Queen  of  Love  ; 
Comes  the  starting  tear,  'tis  dried  with  a  smile ; 
Comes  a  cloud,  as  you  look  'tis  gone  the  while ; 
Stirs  the  *  old  Adam '  to  tempt  and  to  dare, 
He  thinks  Who  was  tempted  and  knows  what  we  are ; 
Gentle  and  meek,  murmurs  not  nor  rebels, 
But  serene  as  in  heaven  and  tranquil  dwells : 
And  so  the  Believer  has  '  songs  in  the  night,' 
And  so  every  cloud  has  a  lining  of  light. 
Thus,  even  thus,  the  captive  bird's  story 
Tells  how  a  soul  is  ripen'd  for  glory.  G. 


DAMNO  AFFICI  SAEPE  FIT  LUCRUM. 
Damna  adsunt  multis  taciti  compendia  lucri, 

Felicique  docent  plus  properare  mora. 
Luxuriem  annoruin  posita  sic  pelle  redemit, 

Atque  sagax  serpens  in  nova  saecla  subit. 
Cernis  ut  ipsa  sibi  replicato  suppetat  aevo, 

Seque  iteret  multa  morte  perennis  avis  1 


264  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Succrescit  generosa  sibi,  facilesque  per  ignes 

Perque  suos  cineres,  per  sua  fata  ferax. 
Quae  sellers  jactura  sui  1  quis  funeris  usus  ? 

Flammarumque  fides  ingeniumque  rogi  ? 
Siccine  fraude  subis  ?  pretiosaque  funera  ludis  ? 

Siccine  tu  mortem,  ne  moriaris,  adis  ? 
Felix  cui  medicae  tanta  experientia  mortis, 

Cui  tarn  Parcarum  est  officiosa  manus. 

TRANSLATION. 
GAIN  OUT  OF  LOSS. 

Losses  are  often  source  of  secret  gain, 

Delays  good-speed,  and  ease  the  child  of  pain. 

The  subtle  snake,  laying  aside  her  fears, 

Casts  off  her  slough,  and  heals  the  waste  of  years. 

The  phoenix  thus  her  waning  pride  supplies, 

And,  to  be  ever-living,  often  dies ; 

Bold  for  her  good,  she  makes  the  fires  her  friend, 

And  to  begin  anew,  will  plot  her  end. 

What  skilful  losing  !  what  wise  use  of  dying  ! 

What  trufet  in  flames  !  and  what  a  craft  in  plying 

That  trick  of  immolation  !     Canst  thou  so 

Compound  with  griefs  ?  canst  wisely  undergo 

Life's  losses,  crosses  1  play  with  gainful  doom  ? 

Canst,  to  be  quicken'd,  gladly  seek  the  tomb  ? 

Thrice-happy  he  thus  touch'd  with  healing  sorrow, 

For  whom  night's  strife  plots  but  a  gracious  morrow. 


GAIN  OUT  OF  LOSS.  265 


ANOTHER  RENDERING  (mOT 6  freely). 

Suff  'ring  is  not  always  loss  ; 
Often  underneath  the  cross — 
Heavy,  crushing,  wearing,  slow, 
Causing  us  in  dread  to  go — 
All  unsuspected  lieth  gain, 
Like  sunshine  in  vernal  rain. 

Lo,  the  serpent's  mottled  skin 
Cast,  new  lease  of  years  doth  win  : 
Lo,  the  phoenix  in  the  fire 
Leaps  immortal  from  its  pyre, 
The  mystic  plumage  mewing, 
And  life  by  death  renewing. 
What  a  wise  loss  thus  to  lose  ! — 
Who  will  gainsay  or  abuse? 
What  strange  end  to  fun'ral  pile, 
Thus  in  Death's  gaunt  face  to  smile  ! 
Faith  still  strong  within  the  fire, 
Faith  triumphant  o'er  its  ire. 

How  stands  it,  fellow-man,  with  thee  ? 
What  meaning  in  this  myth  dost  see  ? 
Happy  thou,  if  when  thou'rt  lying 
On  thy  sick-bed  slow  a-dying, 
Cometh  vision  of  the  Eternal, 
Cometh  strength  for  the  supernal, 
Cometh  triumph  o'er  the  infernal ; 
And  thou  canst  the  Last  Enemy 
Calmly  meet,  serenely  die ; 


266  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

The  hard  Sisters  life's  web  snipping, 
But  thy  spirit  never  gripping ; 
Good,  not  evil,  to  thee  bringing ; 
Hushing  not  thy  upward  singing, 
To  the  Golden  City  winging. 

Even  so  to  die  is  gain, 
Like  the  Harvest's  tawnied  grain  : 
Suffering  is  not  always  loss  ; 
The  Crown  succeeds  the  Cross. 


HUMANAE  YITAE  DESCRIPTIO. 

0  vita,  tantum  lubricus  quidam  furor 

Spoliumque  vitae  !  scilicet  longi  brevis 

Erroris  hospes  !  Error  6  mortalium  ! 

0  certus  error  !  qui  sub  incerto  vagum 

Suspendit  aevum,  mille  per  dolos  viae  5 

Fugacis,  et  proterva  per  volumina 

Fluidi  laboris,  ebrios  lactat  gradus ; 

Et  irretitos  ducit  in  nihilum  dies. 

0  fata  !  quantum  perfidae  vitae  fugit 

Umbris  quod  imputemus  atque  auris,  ibi  10 

Et  umbra  et  aura  serias  partes  agunt 

Miscentque  scenam,  volvimur  ludibrio 

Procacis  aestus,  ut  per  incertum  mare 

Fragilis  protervo  cymba  cum  nutat  freto ; 

Et  ipsa  vitae  fila,  queis  nentes  Deae  1 5 


HUMAN  LIFE.  267 

Aevi  severa  texta  producunt  manu, 

Haec  ipsa  nobis  implicant  vestigia, 

Ketrahunt  trahuntque,  donee  everso  gradu 

Ruina  lassos  alta  deducat  pedes. 

Felix,  fugaces  quisquis  excipiens  dies  20 

Gressus  serenos  fixit,  insidiis  sui 

Xec  servit  aevi,  vita  inofFensis  Imic 

Feretur  auris,  atque  clauda  rarius 

Titubabit  hora  :  vortices  anni  vagi 

Hie  extricabit,  sanus  assertor  sui.  25 

TRANSLATION. 
DESCRIPTION  OF  HUMAN  LIFE. 

0  Life,  or  but  some  evanescent  madness 

And  glittering  spoil  of  life  snatch'd  with  blind  gladness ! 

Of  endless  Error,  transitory  guest ; 

Sad  human  Error,  which  would  fain  find  rest. 

0  certain  Error,  'neath  uncertain  sky 

Suspending  here  our  frail  mortality; 

Leading  us  through  a  thousand  devious  ways 

And  intricacies  of  a  treacherous  maze  ! 

Our  staggering  footsteps  how  dost  thou  beguile 

Through  wanton  rounds  of  unavailing  toil, 

And  our  entangl'd  days  to  nothing  bring  ! 

0  fates,  how  much  of  our  poor  life  takes  wing, 

Wasted  on  winds  and  shadows  !     On  life's  stage 

Shadows  and  winds  a  serious  part  engage, 


268  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

The  scene  confusing.     On  life's  billow  tost, 
The  sport  of  changeful  tide,  we're  well-nigh  lost, 
And,  like  a  frail  boat  on  a  stormy  sea, 
We  waver  up  and  down  uncertainly. 
]STay,  e'en  the  threads  spun  by  the  Fates  on  high, 
As  with  stern  fingers  they  divinely  ply 
The  web  of  life,  twine  round  us  as  we  go, 
And  draw  us  backwards,  forwards,  to  and  fro ; 
Till  Ruin  trips  us  up,  and  we  are  found 
Helpless  and  weary,  stretched  along  the  ground. 

Happy  the  man  who,  welcoming  each  day 
With  smiles  that  answer  to  its  fleeting  ray, 
Pursues  with  step%serene  his  purpos'd  way; 
The  alluring  snares  peculiar  to  the  age 
His  soul  enslave  not,  nor  his  mind  engage  ; 
His  life  with  peaceful  tenor  glides  along, 
By  fav'ring  breezes  fann'd,  and  sooth'd  with  song  ; 
Inspir'd  by  Heaven  with  soul-sustairing  force, 
Seldom  he  falls,  or  falters  in  his  course ; 
Eut  ever,  as  the  eddying  years  roll  round, 
Bursting  through  all  the  perils  that  abound, 
A  wise  assertor  of  himself  is  found.  E.  Wi. 


IN  PYGMALIONA. 

Poenitet  artis 
Pygmaliona  suae, 


PYGMALION.  269 

Quod  felix  opus  esset, 

Infelix  erat  artifex ; 

Sen  tit  vulnera,  nee  videt  ictum. 

Quis  credit  ?  gelido  veniunt  de  marmore  flammae : 

Marmor  ingratum  nimis 

Incendit  autorem  suum. 

Concepit  hie  vanos  furores, 

Opus  suum  miratur  atque  adorat. 

Prius  creavit,  ecce  nunc  colit  manus ; 

Tentantes  digitos  molliter  applicat ; 

Decipit  molles  caro  dura  tactus. 

An  virgo  vera  est,  an  sit  eburnea ; 

Keddat  an  oscula  quae  dabantur, 

Nescit  •  sed  dubitat,  sed  metuit,  munere  supplicat, 

Blanditiasque  miscet. 

Te,  miser,  poenas  dare  vult,  hos  Venus,  hos  triumphos 

Capit  a  te,  quod  amorem  fugis  omnem. 

Cur  fugis  heu  vivos  ?  mortua  te  necat  puella. 

!N"on  erit  innocua  haec,  quamvis  tua  fingas  manu ; 

Ipsa  heu  nocens  erit  nimis,  cujus  imago  nocet. 

TRANSLATION. 
ON  PYGMALION. 

Grief  for  work  his  hands  have  done 
Harroweth  Pygmalion; 
Happy  reach  of  art !  yet  he 
The  artificer,  unhappily, 


270  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

He  feels  the  wounds :  what  deals  the  blow  ? 

Can  it  be  true  1  can  names  from  gelid  marble  flow  ] 

Marble,  treacherous  and  to  blame 

To  burn  your  Sculptor  with  such  flame  ! 

What  madness  in  his  heart  is  hid  ? 
He  wonders  at,  he  adores  the  work  he  did. 

First  he  made,  and  next  his  hand 

With  wandering  fingers  softly  tries 

The  mystery  to  understand. 

Ah,  surely  now  the  hard  flesh  lies  ! 
Is  it  a  living  maiden,  see  ! 

0  treacherous  blisses  ! 
Is  it  no  marble  ?  can  it  frail  flesh  be  ? 

Does  it  return  his  kisses  ? 
He  knows  not,  he. 

He  doubts,  he  fears,  he  prays ;  what  mean 
All  these  sweet  blandishments  between  ? 
Venus,  wretched  Sculptor,  wills 
You  should  suffer  these  sad  ills ; 
This  is  her  triumph  over  you, 

Because  at  love  your  lips  would  curl; 
Your  will  not  living  overthrows  yet  this  dead  girl. 

Weep,  ah,  weep,  Pygmalion  ! 

Though  you  shap'd  her  with  your  hands, 
With  your  chisel,  out  of  stone, 

iNot  innocuous  here  she  stands. 


PYGMALION.  271 

0  image  of  a  maiden ! 
If  you  so  strangely  baneful  prove, 

With  what  despair  will  you  come  laden, 
Coming  alive  to  claim  his  love  !  A. 

ANOTHER  VERSION  (more  freely}. 

Pygmalion  mourns  his  own  success  ; 

Was  ever  such  strange  wretchedness  ] 

His  work  itself,  a  work  of  Art, 

Perfect  in  its  every  part ; 

But  himself  1     Alas,  artist  he 

Of  his  own  utmost  misery. 

He  feels  his  wounds,  but  who  shall  tell 

Whence  come  the  drops  that  downward  steal  ? 

Flames  leap  out  from  the  marble,  cold 

As  ice  itself  by  storm- wind  roll'd  : 

And  he,  contriver  of  that  fire, 

Burns  self-immolate  on  his  own  pyre ; 

Furies  of  his  own  genius  born 

Cast  him,  adoring  and  forlorn, 

Into  a  strange  captivity 

Before  his  own  hands'  work  ;  and  he 

Clings  to  the  shapely  form,  until, 

In  ecstasy  of  love  a-thrill, 

He  burning  lips  to  cold  lips  sets, 

And  wild  with  passion  her  cheek  wets  ; 

Strains  to  his  breast  insensate  stone, 

As  'twere  a  breathing  thing ;  with  moan, 


272  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

With  clasp  and  grasp  and  tingling  touch, 

As  though  he  ne'er  could  grip  too  much ; 

And  wilder'd  cry  of  agony, 

That  she  respond  would ;  by  him  lie 

A  virgin  pure  as  drifted  snow, 

Or  lilies  that  i'  the  meadows  blow. 

Is  it  ivory  ?  is  it  stone  1 

Lives  it  ?  or  is  it  clay  alone  1 

0  that  to  flesh  the  stone  would  melt, 

And  show  a  soul  within  it  dwelt ! 

He  looks,  he  yearns,  he  sighs,  he  sobs, 
Convulsive  his  whole  body  throbs ; 
He  doubts,  he  fears,  he  supplicates 
With  wistful  gaze ;  he  on  her  waits  ; 
Gifts  lavish  he  lays  at  her  feet, 
And,  stung  to  passion,  will  entreat, 
As  though  the  image  he  has  made 
Were  thing  of  life  he  might  persuade — 
Persuade  and  woo,  and  on  her  stake 
His  future,  all.     0  sad  mistake  ! 
For  thee,  Pygmalion,  Venus  sends 
These  triumphs  which  thy  chisel  lends, 
To  punish  thee,  for  that  no  love 
Erewhile  thy  obstinate  heart  might  move. 

Why  flee'st  thou  the  living,  say, 
When  this  image  thee  doth  slay  ? 
Thee  doth — ay,  slay !     Why  dost  thou  stand 
Entranc'd  before  the  work  o'  thy  hand, 


ARIOX.  273 

None  the  less  hurtful  that  it  is 

Thine  own  genius  yields  the  bliss  ? 

Venus  must  thee  still  deny; 

The  sculptured  maid  must  breathless  lie.  G. 


ARIOK 
Squammea  vivae 
Lubrica  terga  ratis 
Jam  conscendet  Arion. 
Merces  tarn  nova  solvitur 
Navis  quam  nova  scanditur.     Ilia 
Aerea  est  merces,  haec  est  et  aquatica  navis. 
Perdidere  ilium  viri 
Mercede  magna,  servat  hie 
Mercede  nulla  piscis  :  et  sic 
Salute  plus  ruina  constat  illi ; 
Minoris  et  servatur  hinc  quam  perditur. 
Hie  dum  findit  aquas,  findit  hie  aera  : 
Cursibus,  piscis ;  digitis,  Arion  : 
Et  sternit  undas,  sternit  et  aera  : 
Carminis  hoc  placido  Tridente 
Abjurat  sua  jam  murmura,  ventusque  modestior 
Auribus  ora  mutat : 

Ora  dediscit,  minimos  et  metuit  susurros ; 
Sonus  alter  restat,  ut  fit  sonus  illis 

VOL.  II.  t 


274  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Aura  strepens  circum  muta  sit  later!  adjacente  penna, 
Ambit  et  ora  viri,  nee  vela  ventis  hie  egent ; 
Attendit  hanc  ventus  ratem :  non  trahit,  at  trahitur. 

TRANSLATION  (full). 

ABION. 

Never  since  sliip  was  set  a-float 
Have  men  seen  so  strange  a  boat : 
Alive  it  is  from  deck  to  keel, 
Having  the  gray  gleam  of  steel ; 
Slippery  as  wave-wash'd  wreck, 
Or  as  a  war-ship's  bloody  deck. 
A  Dolphin,  lo,  its  huge  back  bending, 
Safety  to  Arion  lending 
From  the  sailors  of  Sicily, 
Covetous  of  his  golden  monie ; 
Money  that  as  prize  he  had  won 
Before  all  Singers  aneath  the  sun ; 
Playing  and  singing  so  famouslie, 
Singing  and  playing  so  wondrouslie, 
That  there  went  up  from  ev'ry  throat 
The  verdict,  '  for  Arion  I  vote  :' 
Vote  the  prize ;  and  gifts  as  well, 
Crowns  of  gold  and  of  asphodel ; 
Lyres  all  a-glow  with  gems, 
Kobes  bejewell'd  to  their  hems ; 
A  thousand  golden  pieces  and  one 
For  the  gifted  son  of  Poseidon  : 


ARION.  275 

And,  hark,  as  'twere  the  bellowing  thunder, 
In  clang'rous  shouts  men  tell  their  wonder. 

Arion  now  homeward  takes  his  way 
In  a  fair  ship  steer'd  for  Corinth  Bay  \ 
Proud  of  his  prizes,  proud  of  his  skill, 
Proud  that  soon  Periander  will 
Welcome  him  fondly,  and  call  him  friend, 
With  words  such  as  no  money  can  send. 

Alas  and  alas,  such  crime  to  tell ! 
The  ship-captain  and  sailors  fell 
Covet  his  gold,  and  have  it  must, 
Though  Arion  they  murder  by  blow  or  thrust. 

But  Apollo  at  midnight  hour 
Sendeth  a  dream  in  mystic  power ; 
It  showeth  the  men,  it  showeth  their  crime. 
Arion  awakes  with  the  morning's  chime ; 
Awakes,  and  planneth  how  to  escape. 
Vain,  vain  all ;  on  him  they  gape, 
Thirsting  alike  for  gold  and  life, 
Murder  and  covetousness  at  strife. 

*  Suffer  me,  then,'  Arion  said, 
'  That  I  may  play  as  I  have  play'd  ; 
Here  is  my  poor  Lyre,  and,  ere  I  die, 
Let  me  prove  its  minstrelsy.' 

He  has  donn'd  him  now  in  gay  attire, 
Festal  robes ;  in  his  hand  his  Lyre. 
List  ye,  list  ye;  above,  below, 
Sounds  such  as  only  the  angels  know ; 


276  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Sounds  that  are  born  of  rapture  and  bliss, 

Of  the  throbbing  heart  and  the  burning  love-kiss. 

Now  it  is  soft,  pathetic,  low, 

Then  'gins  to  change  to  cry  of  woe ; 

Now  it  comes  rushing  as  if  the  thunder 

Came  booming  from  the  deep  earth  under ; 

Pulsing  along  each  quivering  string 

As  though  the  Lyre  were  a  living  thing, 

And  Arion's  hand  had  so  cunning  a  spell 

As  should  win  all  heaven — ay  and  hell. 

O,  came  there  never  such  melodie 

From  mortal  earth  or  mortal  sky. 

He  mounted  to  the  good  ship's  prow, 

And  mingling  with  his  song  a  vow 

To  the  gods,  he  himself  threw 

Out  'mid  the  waves  from  that  damnable  crew. 

Up  through  the  waves  the  Dolphins  bound, 
A  hundred  bended  backs  are  found, 
Each  one  more  eager  than  the  rest 
To  upbear  the  sweet  Player  on  Ocean's  breast. 

Arion  ascends ;  and,  lo,  he  stands, 
His  Lyre^  unwet  within  his  hands  : 
Onward  and  onward  careering  they  go ; 
0  soft  and  true  the  notes  that  flow  ! 
Rising,  falling,  swelling,  dying, 
Near  and  nearer,  far-off  flying ; 
Pulsing  along  each  quivering  string 
As  though  the  Lyre  were  a  living  thing. 


ARION.  277 

New  is  the  ship,  as  new  the  freight ; 
The  Dolphin  feels  never  the  weight ; 
New  is  the  ship,  and  new  the  fare, 
That  of  the  water,  this  of  the  air  : 
The  sailors  in  their  greed  him  lost, 
The  Dolphin  bears  him  withouten  cost. 

Away  and  away  with  a  shim'ring  track 
Arion  goes  on  the  Dolphin's  back ; 
Away  and  away,  still  softly  playing, 
Each  string  his  lightest  touch  obeying. 
Under  the  spell  the  Sea  grows  calm, 
Listing  attent  his  witching  psalm ; 
Under  the  spell  the  air  grows  mild, 
Breathing  soft  as  sleeping  child. 

But  who  may  seek  all  the  tale  to  tell  ? 
It  is  a  tale  unspeakable. 

Onward  and  onward  careering  they  go, 
Silence  above  and  silence  below  : 
The  Storm-gale  shuts  its  mouth  and  lists, 
The  Wind  folds  its  pinions  and  desists, 
Following,  not  blowing,  drawing  not,  but  drawn, 
From  early  ev'ning  to  breaking  dawn. 
Tenarus  at  last  Arion  beheld ; 
Tenarus,  his  own  dear  home  that  held ; 
And  as  together  they  swiftly  come, 
He  claps  hands  loud  and  thinks  of  home. 

The  Dolphin  seeks  a  quiet  cove  ; 
The  Dolphin  arching  its  back  above 


278  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS, 

The  azure  waters,  leaves  him  there, 
A-list'ning  still  his  Lyre  to  hear. 

Homeward  to  Corinth  Arion  proceeds  : 
Periander  a  tale  of  suff  'ring  reads 
In  the  thinned  cheek  and  the  dreamy  eye, 
In  the  tremulous  words  and  the  laden  sigh. 

The  story  is  told.     0  story  of  wrong  ! 
The  ship  returns  ;  and  it  is  not  long 
Ere  captain  and  crew,  at  bar  arraign'd, 
Must  tell  where  Arion  they  detain'd. 
*  He  tarries,'  quoth  they,  '  in  Sicily, 
Winning  all  men  by  his  minstrelsie.' 

Lies  were  proven  in  their  throat. 
Periander  his-  hands  together  smote, 
Swearing  a  solemn  oath  that  they — 
One,  all — should  drown'd  be  in  the  Bay. 

Tied  hand  and  foot,  pallor'd  and  grim, 
'Tis  done  as  they  would  ha'  done  to  him. 
A  plunge  as  of  a  plunging  stone, 
A  few  bubbles — Vengeance  is  done  ! 


IN 

APOLLINEA  DEPEREUNTEM  DAPHNEK 

Stulte  Cupido, 

Quid  tua  flamma  parat  ? 

Annos  sole  sub  ipso 

Accensae  pereunt  faces  ? 

Sed  fax  nostra  potentior  istis, 

Flammas  inflammare  potest,  ipse  "uritur  ignis, 

Ecce  flammarum  potens 

Majore  sub  flamma  gemit. 

Eheu,  quid  hoc  est  1     En  Apollo 

Lyra  tacente,  ni  sonet  dolores, 

Coma  jacente  squallet  aeternus  decor 

Oris,  en,  dominae  quo  placeat  magis, 

Languido  tardum  jubar  igne  promit. 

Pallente  vultu  territat  aethera. 

Mundi  oculus  lacrymis  senescit, 

Et  solvit  pelago  debita,  quodque  hauserat  ignibus, 

His  lacrymis  rependit. 

Noctis  adventu  properans  se  latebris  recondit, 

Et  opacas  tenebrarum  colit  umbras, 

Namque  suos  odit  damnans  radios  nocensque  lumen. 

An  lateat  tenebris  dubitat,  an  educat  diem, 

Hinc  suadet  hoc  luctus  furens,  inde  repugnat  amor. 


280  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

TRANSLATION   (full). 
ON  APOLLO  PINING  FOR  DAPHNE. 

Cupid,  foolishest  of  pets, 

What. woe  thy  swift-sent  flame  begets  ! 

Surely  before  the  flashing  Sun 

Torches  pale  to  extinction? 

But  our  torch  is  mightier  far  ; 

It  able  is  'gainst  fire  to  war, 

Yea,  fire  itself  to  burn  and  char. 

The  igni-potent  in  amaze, 
Lo,  groans,  his  huge  heart  all  a-blaze 
With  keener  flame  than  his  own  rays. 

Ah,  what  is  this  ?    Apollo  burns, 
And  as  distraught  in  anguish  mourns. 
Lo,  see  his  lyre  mute  and  unstrung, 
Or  only  grief-notes  from  it  wrung  : 
Lo,  his  golden  locks  neglected, 
And  his  radiant  face  dejected  ; 
Beauty  eterne  distain'd,  rejected. 

The  great  Sun-god  is  in  lore, 
And  seeks  in  vain  his  Fair  to  move  : 
Hence  his  weird  pallor,  and  those  cries 
That  the  sky  shudd'ring  terrifies ; 
Hence  the  world's  day-bringing  eye 
Tears  dim,  such  as  in  mortals'  lie ; 
Hence  those  showers  often  falling, 
The  Sea  her  erst  gifts  recalling ; 


APOLLO  PINING  FOR  DAPHNE.  281 

Hence  welcome  the  approaching  night, 

That  mourning  he  may  veil  his  light — 

Veil  his  light,  and  in  shadows  deep 

His  great  anguish  in  secret  weep. 

NOT,  when  vermeil-draped  Morning, 

With  her  smile  the  East  adorning, 

Touches  with  her  rosy  finger 

Eyes  that  'neath  their  lashes  linger, 

Seeking  to  wake  the  God  of  Day, 

That  round  the  world  his  beams  may  play, 

Does  he  haste  at  all  to  rise 

To  his  'fulgent  throne  i'  the  skies ; 

But  rather  would  abide  within 

The  clouds  whereon  he  rests  his  chin ; 

Hating  his  own  beams'  splendour  now, 

Since  Daphne  scorns  to  list  his  vow : 

Thus  he  lingers,  and  still  weighs 

Whether  Day  or  Mght  to  raise. 

Raging  grief  he  cannot  smother, 

Says  the  one ;  and  Love  the  other. 

Cupid,  tricksiest  of  pets, 

What  woe  thy  swift-sent  flame  begets  I1  G. 

1  Query,    in  the  heading   (Latin),   '  In    Apollinem'  ?    but 
'  Apollinea'  is  in  all  the  texts.     G. 


AENEAS  PATEIS  SUI  BAJULUS. 

Moenia  Trojae,  hostis  et  ignis, 

Hostes  inter  et  ignes,  Aeneas  spolium  pium 

Atque  humeris  venerabile  pondus 

Excipit,  et  *  Saevae  nunc  6  nunc  parcite  flammae  ; 

Parcite  haud,  clamat,  mihi ; 

Sacrae  favete  sarcinae : 

Quod  si  negatis,  nee  licebit 

Vitam  juvare,  sed  juvabo  funus 

Rogusque  fiam  patris  ac  bustum  mei.' 

His  dictis,  acies  pervolat  hostium, 

Gestit,  et  partis  veluti  trophaeis 

D  ucit  triumphos.     Nam  furor  hostium 

Jam  stupet,  et  pietate  tanta 

Victor  viri*citur ;  imo  et  moritur 

Troja  libenter,  funeribusque  gaudet, 

Ac  faces  admittit  ovans,  ne  lateat  tenebras 

Per  opacas  opus  ingens  pietatis. 

Debita  sic  patri  sol  vis  tua,  sic  pari  rependis 

Officio.     Dederat  vitam  tibi,  tu  reddis  huic  : 

Felix,  parentis  qui  pater  diceris  esse  tui. 


JENEAS  CARRYING  HIS  FATHER.  283 

V 

W^ 
TRANSLATION  (full). 

AENEAS  THE  BEAREE  OF  HIS  FATHER. 

The  walls  of  Troy— the  walls  of  Troy  ! 
'Tis  an  old  tale  you  will  enjoy  : 
A  foe  is  there  amid  the  fire, 
A  foe  'twixt  foemen  in  their  ire. 

Aeneas  takes  a  pious  load 
With  upward  prayer  to  his  god ; 
E'en  his  old  father,  whose  gray  head 
Lay  'mong  the  dying  and  the  dead  : 
O  venerable  spoil  in  truth, 
Fit  from  the  demons  to  fetch  ruth. 

Fierce  roar  the  flames,  and  fiercer  still 
Rages  the  fight  on  plain  and  hill. 
'  Spare  the  old  man,'  Aeneas  cries ; 
*  Spare  the  white  hairs  ;  or  if  he  dies, 
Be  mine  the  privilege  of  his  pyre ; 
Be  mine  with  him  at  once  t' expire.' 

Scarcely  are  the  true  words  spoken, 
"When  through  line  of  battle  broken 
Swift  he  passes ;  and  this  brave  son 
His  father  bears  in  triumph  on ; 
Eeck'ning  that  he  a  trophy  has 
That  the  conquerors'  doth  surpass. 

He  safely  goes  :  for,  lo,  amaz'd, 
The  foe  upon  them  wistful  gaz'd  : 


284  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

The  conquerors  the  conquer'd  are 
By  filial  love  so  strong,  so  fair. 
The  flames  Troy  willingly  receives, 
Jubilant  that  the  old  man  lives  ; 
Welcomes  the  torches,  that  the  night 
May  not  conceal  this  deed  of  light. 

All  praise  to  thee,  high-hearted  son  ! 
Thou  an  undying  name  hast  won  : 
The  debt  of  love  thou  hast  repaid 
Unto  thy  father,  who  is  made 
Thy  debtor  now  ;  for  life  he  gave, 
And  thou  in  turn  his  life  dost  save. 
Happy  the  son  whom  thus  we  see 
Father  of  his  own  sire  to  be.  G. 


PHOENICIS  GENETHLIACON  ET  EPICEDION. 

Phoenix  alumna  mortis, 

Quam  mira  tua  puerpera  ! 

Tu  scandis  haud  nidos,  sed  ignes. 

Non  parere  sed  perire  ceu  parata  : 

Mors  obstetrix ;  atque  ipsa  tu  teipsam  paris, 

Tu  tuique  mater  ipsa  es, 

Tu  tuique  filia. 
Tu  sic  odora  messis 
Surgis  tuorum  funerum ; 
Tibique  per  tuam  ruinam 


THE  GENERATION  OF  THE  PHCENIX.  285 

Eeparata,  te  succedis  ipsa.     Mors  6 
Faecunda ;  sancta  6  luera  pretiosae  necis  ! 

Vive,  monstrum  dulce,  vive, 

Tu  tibique  suffice. 

TRANSLATION. 

OF  THE  GENEKATION  AND  REGENERATION  OF 
THE  PHCENIX. 

Phoenix,  nursling  of  Death, 

How  wondrous  is  thy  birth  ! 
Thou  gainest  not  thy  breath 

I'  nest,  like  birds  of  Earth  : 
'Mid  fire  all  naming  hot 
Thou  strangely  art  begot ; 
The  leaping  flames  thee  cherish 
When  thou  seem'st  to  perish. 

Lo,  Death  thy  midwife  is ; 

Lo,  thyself  thou  bearest. 
0  tell  me  how  is  this, 

That  mystery  thou  preparest  1 
Thou  mother  of  thyself ! 
Thou  daughter  of  thyself ! 
When  thy  'pointed  hour  is  done, 

Thou  an  od'rous  nest  entwinest ; 
And,  as  for  thy  destruction, 
Thou  'midst  its  fires  reclinest. 

Most  surely  thou'rt  consum'd ; 

Most  surely  thou'rt  relum'd. 


286  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

0  fruitful  Death  ! 
0  gainful  Death  ! 
Live  then,  self-contained  bird ; 

Most  pleasing  wonder. 
The  old  legend  is  absurd ; 

But  truth  lies  under.  G. 


EPITAPHIUM. 

Quisquis  nectareo  serenus  aevo 

Et  spe  lucidus  aureae  juventae, 

iSTescis  purpureos  abire  soles, 

Nescis  vincula  ferreamque  noctem 

Imi  careris  horridumque  Ditem,  5 

Et  spectas  tremulam  procul  senectam, 

Hinc  disces  lacrymas,  et  hue  repones. 

Hie,  6  scilicet  hie  brevi  sub  antro 

Spes  et  gaudia  mille,  mille,  longam, 

Heu  longam  nimis  !  induere  noctem.  i  o 

Flammantem  nitidae  facem  juventae 

Submersit  Stygiae  paludis  unda. 

Ergo,  si  lacrymas  neges  doloris, 

Hue  certo  lacrymas  feres  timoris. 

NOTE. 

I  correct,  in  1.  6,  '  tremulam'  for  '  tremulum ;'  1.  7,  '  disces' 
for  '  discas,'  and  '  hue'  for  '  hinc.'     G. 


EPITAPH.  287 

TRANSLATION. 
EPITAPH. 

Ye  that  still,  serene  in  peace, 

Lying  in  the  lap  of  ease, 

Believe  the  hopes  of  golden  youth, 

And  have  not  heard  the  bitter  truth, 

How  shining  suns  fade  at  a  breath ; 

Ye,  with  little  dread  of  death, 

Or  fear  of  chains  and  iron  night 

Of  man's  last  prison,  or  the  sight 

Of  gloomy  Dis ;  that  think  to  keep 

Old  age  away, — look  here,  and  weep. 

Here,  to  this  one  narrow  room, 

A  thousand  joys  and  hopes  have  CQme; 

Here  bright  minutes  many  a  one 

Have  a  lasting  night  put  011 : 

Youth's  torch,  that  flash' d  such  light  about, 

Is  in  the  Stygian  wave  put  out. 

Then,  if  you  grudge  poor  grief  a  tear, 

Heave,  at  least,  a  sigh  for  fear.  A. 

ANOTHER  RENDERING  (more  freely). 

Whoe'er  ye  be,  upgazing  here, 
Calm,  unruffl'd,  without  tear; 
Joyous  in  your  golden  prime, 
And  unwitting  of  the  time 


288  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

When  shall  pale  Life's  glowing  sun, 
And  the  web  of  years  be  spun  ; 
Thinking  not  o'  the  iron  night 
Where  grim  Pluto  reigns  in  might ; 
Thinking  not  of  the  nether  world, 

With  its  clanking  chains ; 
Whither  damned  souls  are  hiirl'd 

When  the  Judge  arraigns ; 
Seeing  old  age  far  away ; 
Making  Life  one  holiday; — 
Here  perceive  that  Grief  shall  yet 
Your  ruddy  cheeks  with  sorrow  wet; 
Here  musing  upon  this  poor  stone, 
Ye  may  learn  prevention. 
This  Earth,  what  is  it  but  a  home 
Fugitive  as  sea-wave's  foam  ] 
Mark  where  breaks  the  whit'n'd  wave 
'Mid  the  cliffs — an  arched  cave ; 
Light  and  shadow  play  within, 

Flick'ring  o'er  its  walls ; 
In  the  gloom — with  Hell  akin — 

A!  dull  stream  slowly  crawls. 
E'en  such  is  Life,  how  bright  soe'er, 
Hope  and  Joy  lure  to  Despair ; 
And  Life's  stream  goes  plunging  down 
Into  dark  drear  Acheron ; 
Youth's  bright  torch  extinguish'd  quite; 
Golden  Day  exchang'd  for  Night : 


ELEGIA.  !289 


To  long  night  of  changeless  woe 
Swift  the  Christless  souls  shall  go. 
Shun  not  therefore  in  thy  prime, 
Shun  not  whilst  thou  art  in  Time, 
Tears  of  penitence  over  sin  ; 

Or  bitterly  shalt  thou  rue, 
When  Death  shall  fling  his  javelin, 

And  Hell's  prison  thee  immew. 
Bethink  thee  in  thy  golden  prime  ; 
Bethink  thee  whilst  thou'rt  yet  in  Time. 


ELEGIA.1 

Ite,  meae  lacrymae,  nee  enim  moror,  ite;  sed  oro 

Tantum  ne  miserae  claudite  vocis  iter. 
O  liceat  querulos  verbis  animare  dolores, 

Et  saltern  'Ah  periit !'  dicere  noster  amor. 
Ecce  negant  tamen;  ecce  negant,  lacrymaeque  rebelles 

Pergunt  indomita  praecipitantque  via. 
Visne,  6  care,  igitur  te  nostra  silentia  dieant  ? 

Vis  fleat  assiduo  murmure  mutus  amor  ? 
Flebit,  et  urna  suos  semper  bibet  humida  rores, 

Et  fldas  semper  semper  habebit  aquas. 
Interea,  quicunque  estis,  ne  credite  mirum 

Si  verae  lacrymae  non  didicere  loqui. 

1  Appeared  originally  in  1648  edition  (pp.  63-4),  under  the 
title  of  '  Elegia.'  It  was  subsequently  headed  '  In  eundem,'  fol 
lowing  the  Epitaph -poem  on  Harris  (see  above).  G. 

VOL.  II.  u 


290  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

TRANSLATION. 

ELEGY. 

Flow,  flow,  my  tears  ;  I  stay  you  not ;  but  pray 
To  my  unhappy  voice  close  not  the  way. 
My  plaintive  griefs  with  words,  0  let  me  move  ; 
To  say.  'Alas,  he  died  !'  allow  niy  love. 
Lo,  they  say,  no — the  rebel  tears  say,  no  ! 
And  with  unconquer'd  headlong  torrent  flow. 
Wouldst  thou,  O  dear  one,  that  our  silence  speak  ? 
Mute  love  with  ceaseless  sob  moisten  our  cheek  ] 
It  shall ;  and  still  thine  urn  drink  its  own  dews, 
And  never  its  own  faithful  waters  lose. 
Meanwhile  let  no  one  think  a  wonder  wrought, 
If  real  tears  to  speak  could  not  be  taught.       E.  Wi. 


THESAURUS  MALORUM  FOEMINA. 

Quis  deus,  6  quis  erat,  qui  te,  mala  foemina,  finxit  ] 

Proh,  crimen  superum,  noxa  pudenda  deum  ! 
Quae  divum  manus  est  adeo  non  dextera  nmndo  1 

In  ndfetras  clades  ingeniosa  manus  : 
Parcite ;  peccavi :  nee  enim  pia  numina  possunt 

Tarn  crudele  semel  vel  voluisse  nefas. 
Vestrum  opus  est  pietas ;  opus  est  concordia  vestrum ; 

Vos  equidem  tales  haud  reor  artifices. 
Heus,  inferna  cohors,  foetus  cognoscite  vestros. 

Num  pudet  hanc  vestrum  vincere  posse  scelus  ? 


WOMAN  A  TREASURY  OF  EVILS.  ! 

Plaudite  Tartarei  proceres  Erebique  potentes, 

Nae  mirum  est  tantum  vos  potuisse  malum  • 
Jam  vestras  laudate  manus.     Si  forte  tacetis,    . 

Artificum  laudes  grande  loquetur  opus. 
Quam  bene  vos  omnes  speculo  contemplor  in  isto  ! 

Pectus  in  angustum  cogitur*  omne  main  in. 
Quin  dormi,  Pluto ;  rabidas  compesce  sorores  ; 

Jam  non  poscit  opem  nostra  ruina  tuaiu. 
Haec  satis  in  nostros  fabricata  est  machina  inur«>s, 

Mortales  furias  Tartara  nostra  dabimt. 

TRANSLATION. 

WOMAN  A  TREASURY  OF  EVILS. 

What  god  ?  or  who  was  it  1  I  ask,  contriv'd 

Thee,  O  Woman,  evil  Woman  ?  who  connivM 

Together — who — in  this  supremest  crime 

Of  the  divinities,  before  old  Time 

Was  born  ?  Alas,  most  dire  calamity 

As  e'er  has  come  upon  humanity ! 

Whence  was  the  hand,  ye  Powers,  so  evil-skill'd 

In  sin  and  mischief,  so  perversely  will'd 

To  curse  this  world  of  ours  ?     But  hold !  1  blunder 

I  must  to  the  dark  regions  lying  under, 

Ev'n  Hell,  descend.     Not  Thee,  0  God  above, 

For  Thou  art  pitiful,  for  Thou  art  Love  : 

Not  one  of  all  the  gracious  Pow'rs  supernal  ; 

But  ye,  0  Furies,  from  the  pit  infernal, 


'2 '2  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Ye,  ye  the  work  devis'd,  matur'd,  achiev'd, 

And  brought  to  Man  ;  to  Man — frail  Man  !  deceiv'd : 

Ho,  hosts  of  evil !  ho  !  on  you  I  call : 

Behold  your  offspring  diabolical. 

Does  it  a  blush  raise  ? — Spirits  of  evil,  speak  ! — 

Such  as  expos'd  crime  brings  to  mortal  cheek? 

Lo,  these  your  works  yourselves  surpass,  I  wis ; 

( /lap  hands,  ye  potentates  of  the  Abyss. 

Rulers  of  Erebus,  is  it  not  a  wonder, 

Worthy  of  Hell's  most  resonant  swift  thunder, 

That  ye  such  thing  contrived  have  as  Heaven 

Never  cast  out,  nor  e'er  to  Hell  was  driven  ? 

Take  ye  your  praise,  your  praise ;  this  work  o'  your  hand? 

Absolute  in  mischief  'bove  compar'son  stands. 

Or  if  ye  silent  be,  your  work  will  speak 

Your  praise.     Ha,  ha  !  what  mean  ye  that  ye  shriek 

Thus  as  I  meditate  with  pulse  of  fear 

TTpon  this  monster,  Woman?     Ah,  'tis  clear; 

1  see  your  guile  and  skill.     The  gods  above 

Would  have  all  ills  within  one  scant  breast  move  ! 

To  bed,  Pluto,  king  of  the  nether  world ; 

Sleep  on  in  peace  ;  be  every  banner  furl'd  ; 

Ye  fires,  go  out ;  Man's  ruin  is  complete; 

Xo  need  of  you — in  Woman  all  woes  meet : 

In  her,  ye  devils,  ye  have  so  contriv'd 

That  Tempter,  who — better  than  had  ye  div'd 

To  furthest  Tartarus — Man's  protecting  wall 

Shall  breach.     Earth's  fury — Woman — passes  all !    0. 


PART    SECOND.      SECULAR. 


II. 

MISCELLANEOUS  AND   COMMEMORATIVE. 
NEVEE  BEFORE  PRINTED. 


NOTE. 

Ouce  more  the  Bancroft  MS.  furnishes  the  Poems  of  this 
division,  all  hitherto  imprinted.  In  this  section  I  have  again 
been  largely  and  finely  aided  in  the  translations  by  my  already- 
named  friend  the  Rev.  Richard  Wilton,  as  before.  G. 


PULCHEA  NON  DIUTURNA. 

EHEU,  ver  breve  et  invidum  ! 
Eheu,  floriduli  dies  ! 
Ergo  curritis  improba, 
Et  quae  nunc  face  fulgurat, 
Dulcis  forma  tenacibus 
Immiscebitur  infimae : 
Heu,  noctis  nebulis ;  amor 
Fallax,  umbraque  somnii. 
Quiii  incumbitis ;  invida 
Sic  dictat  colus,  et  rota 
Cani  temporis  incite 
Gun-ens  orbe  volubilis. 
0  deprendite  lubricos 
Annos ;  et  liquidum  jubar 
Verni  sideris,  ac  novi 
Floris  fulgura,  mollibus 
Quae  debetis  amoribus, 
Kon  impendite  luridos 
In  manes  avidum  et  Chaos. 

Quanquam  sidereis  genis, 
Quae  semper  nive  sobria 
Sinceris  spatiis  vigent, 


SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

.Floris  germine  simplicis, 
Flagrant  ingenuae  rosae  : 

Quanquam  perpetua  fide 
lllic  rnille  Cupidines, 
(Centum  mille  Cupidines, 
Pastos  nectarea  dape, 
Elandis  sumptibus  educas ; 
Istis  qui  spatiis  vagi, 
Plenis  lusibus  ebrii, 
Udo  rore  beatuli, 
Uno  plus  decies  die 
Istis  ex  oculis  tuis, 
Istis  ex  oculis  suas 
Sopitas  animant  faces, 
Et  languentia  recreant 
Succo  spicula  melleo : 
Turn  flammis  agiles  novis 
Lasciva  volitant  face, 
Turn  plenis  tumidi  minis, 
Turn  vel  sidera  territant, 
Et  coelum  et  fragilem  Jovem  : 

Quanquam  fronte  sub  ardua 
Majestas  gravis  excubans, 
Dulces  fortiter  improbis 
Leges  dictat  amoribus : 

Quanquam  tota,  per  omnia, 
Coelum  machina  praeferat, 
Tanquam  pagina  multiplex 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  NOT  LASTING. 

Vivo  scripta  volumine, 
Terris  indigitans  polos. 
Et  compendia  siderum  : 

Istis  heu  tamen  heu  genis, 
Istis  purpureis  genis, 
Oris  sidere  florid o, 
Eegno  frontis  amabili ; 
Mors  heu  crastina  forsitan 
Orudeles  faciet  notas, 
Xaturaeque  superbiam 
Damnabit  tumuli  specu. 


TRANSLATION. 
THE  BEAUTIFUL  NOT  LASTING. 

Alas,  how  brief  and  grudg'd  our  Spring ! 
Ah,  flow'ry  days  how  vanishing ! 
E'en  so  ye  hasten  on  and  on 
With  an  unceasing  motion. 
And  thou,  sweet  Beauty,  brightly  flashing, 
But  all  too  soon  thy  fairness  dashing, 
To  depths  of  lowest  Night  must  go  : 
Ah,  losing  there  thy  hasty  glow ; 
Dark'ning  mists  around  thee  clinging, 
And  thy  loveliness  swift-winging : 
A  love  that  brightens  to  deceive ; 
A  dream-shadow,  fugitive. 


SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Ye  therefore  o'er  whom  Life's  young  Day 
Shineth  still  with  golden  ray, 
Seize — Fate's  harsh  distaff  makes  appeal, 
And  hoary  Time's  quick- whirling  wheel, 
As  round  and  round  the  circle  spins, 
And  to  furthest  distance  wins — 
Seize  ye  the  gliding  seasons  fleet, 
And  dews  of  vernal  Phosphor  sweet, 
And  new-blown  flowers'  brightness  meet. 
O,  what  to  tender  loves  ye  owe, 
Waste  not  on  Chaos  dark  below, 
Where  pallid  ghosts  dim-gleaming  go. 

Though,  Beauty,  on  thy  starry  cheeks, 
Where  snow's  white  pureness  ever  breaks, 
And  where  gazing,  we  see  born 
Roses  fresh  without  all  thorn, 
Buds  intertwining  undenTd, 
Spotless  as  e'er  a  grace-born  child  : 

Though  thou  with  everlasting  faith 
Fosterest  with  thy  nectar'd  breath 
Myriad  Loves,  and  dost  them  feed 
Witn  honey'd  feast  of  heavenly  mead 
In  gentle  draughts ;  and  they  roam  round 
In  thy  realms,  and  aye  are  found 
Surfeiting  themselves  with  play 
In  one  amorous  holiday ; 
Happy  in  the  drenching  dew, 
And  seeking  ever  to  renew 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  NOT  LASTING.  299 

Their  torch-flames  at  thy  fair  eyes, 
And  whet  blunt  arrows'  ecstasies 
With  sweet  juice  that  in  honey  lies  : 
And  so,  with  their  flame  relumed, 
Deftly  hover,  airy-plumed; 
Waving  higher  still  and  higher 
Their  torches  that  raise  soft  desire; 
Menacing  the  very  stars, 
Yea  the  old  heavens  i'  their  wars  : 

Although  beneath  thy  high-arch'd  brow 
Sits  Majesty,  nor  doth  allow 
To  wanton  loves  such  liberty 
As  mocks  the  Euler  of  the  sky ; 
But  in  their  wild  career  gives  pause, 
Imposing  on  them  Love's  sweet  laws  : 

Though  thy  whole  frame  in  every  part 
Sets  forth  the  sky  as  in  a  chart ; 
Though  thy  fair  face  in  every  look 
Shows  heaven  in  page  of  living  book ; 
To  Earth  reveals  the  starry  skies 
In  the  bright  glances  of  thine  eyes : 

Yet,  alas,  on  these  fair  cheeks, 
Where  the  rose  all-blushing  speaks, 
There  shall  come  the  snow's  sad  whiteness, 
And  the  red,  heart-breaking  brightness  : 
On  the  *  human  face  divine,' 
That  as  a  star  doth  radiant  shine, 
There  shall  come  the  deep'ning  shadow, 


300  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

As  clouds  across  the  dappl'd  meadow. 

On  the  high  state  of  the  brow 

To-morrow  Death  may  make  his  blow  ; 

And  all  of  Nature's  bravery 

Gone,  in  the  Grave's  cavern  lie. 

Alas,  the  fairest  is  the  fleetest  ! 

Alas,  how  short-liv'd  is  the  sweetest  ! 

Alas,  the  richest  is  the  rarest ! 

Alas,  that  Death  doth  spoil  the  fairest !          G. 


HYMNUS  VENERI, 

DUM  IN  ILL1US  TUTELAM  TRANSEUNT  VIRGIN  ES. 

Tu  tuis  adsis,  Venus  alme,  sacris  : 
Rideas  blandum,  Yenus,  et  benignum, 
Quale  cum  Martem  premis,  aureoque 

Frangis  ocello. 

Eideas  6  turn  neque  flamma  Phoebum, 
Xec  juvent  Phoeben  sua  tela;  gestat 
Te  satis  contra  tuus  ille  tantum 

Tela  Cupido. 

Saepe  in  ipsius  pharetra  Dianae 
Hie  suas  ridens  posuit  sagittas, 
Ausus  et  flammae  Dominum  magistris 

Urere  flammis. 
Virginum  te  orat  chorus — esse  longum 


A  HYMN  TO  VENUS.  301 

Virgines  nollent — modo  servientum 
Tot  columbarum  tibi  passerumque  au- 

gere  catervam. 

Uedicant  quicquid  labra  vel  rosarum 
Colla,  vel  servant  tibi  liliorum  ; 
Pedicaiit  totum  tibi  ver  genarum, 

Ver  oculorum. 

Hinc  tuo  sumas  licet  arma  nato, 
Seu  novas  his  ex  oculis  sagittas  ; 
Sen  faces  namma  velit  acriori 

Flave  comatas. 

Sunie,  et  6  discant  quid  arnica,  quid  nox, 
Quid  bene  et  blande  vigilata  nox  sit ; 
Quid  sibi  dulcis  furor,  et  protervus 

Poscat  amator. 

Sume  per  quae  tot  tibi  corda  flagrant, 
Per  quod  arcanum  tua  cestus  halat, 
Per  tuus  quicquid  tibi  dixit  olim  aut 

Fecit  Adonis. 

TRANSLATION. 
A  HYMN  TO  VENUS, 

WHILE  THE  VIKGINS  PASS  UNDER  HER  PROTKCTION. 

lie  thou,  sweet  Venus,  present  now, 
Whilst  at  thy  sacred  rites  we  vow ; 
Smile,  Venus,  with  the  smile  that  charms 
When  Mars  enfolds  thee  in  his  arms, 


SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

O'ercome  with  glance  as  sunshine  golden, 
Renowned  from  the  ages  olden. 
Smile ;  then  Phoebus'  flame  shall  fail, 
]S"or  Phoebe  her  own  darts  avail. 
Thy  Cupid  only  against  thee 
Wields  successful  weaponry. 
Oft  and  oft  the  laughing  Boy 
In  the  wildness  of  his  joy 
Has  slipt  into  Diana's  quiver 
His  keen  arrows,  that  a  shiver 
Pleasant-painful  send  through  all, 
When  he,  trickster,  doth  enthral. 
Yea,  he  has  dar'd  the  Lord  of  Fire 
With  flames  more  burning,  in  his  ire. 

The  arm-link'd  Virgins  to  thee  pray, 
Seeking  thou  wouldst  near  them  stay ; 
Were  it  but  to  offer  here, 
In  the  flock  that  hovers  near, 
More  doves  and  sparrows  lightly-flying  : 
To  their  prayer  there's  no  denying. 

Lo,  they  dedicate  in  posies 
All  ftieir  lips  supply  of  roses ; 
All  their  necks,  of  lilies,  white 
As  the  dewy  stainless  light ; 
Yea,  the  whole  Spring  of  each  cheek, 
And  that  which  from  their  eyes  doth  break. 

Hence,  Venus,  arms  thou  mayest  take 
For  thy  wanton  Boy  to  make 


VER1S  DBSCRIPTIO.  30 O 

Arrows  from  their  fire-darting  eyes, 
Or  torches  flame-tipp'd  that  surprise 
With  Love's  delicious  agonies. 

Take  them,  and  see  thou  lett'st  them  know 
What  means  a  '  mistress  ;'  and  then  show 
What  the  Night  all-wakeful  is 
In  the  rapture  of  its  bliss  ; 
What  the  bold  lover  shall  demand 
When  all  charms  he  doth  command. 

Take  them  :  by  all  ths  hearts  that  burn, 
And  passionate  unto  thee  turn ! 
By  all  the  mysteries  that  are  breath'd, 
Or  in  thine  own  girdle  sheathed  ! 
By  all  to  thee  Adonis  e'er 
Or  said  or  did,  when  he  would  swear, 
Ne'er  i'  the  world  was  one  so  fair!  (!. 


VERIS  DESCRIPTIO. 

Tempus  adest,  placidis  quo  sol  novus  auctior  hori 
Purpureos  mulcere  dies,  et  sidere  verno 
Floridus,  augusto  solet  ire  per  aethera  vultu, 
Naturae  communis  amor;  spes  aurea  mundi ; 
Virgineum  decus,  et  dulcis  lascivia  rerum, 
Ver  tenerum,  ver  molle  subit ;  jam  pulchrior 
Pube  nova,  roseaeque  recens  in  flore  juventao 
Felici  fragrat  gremio,  et  laxatur  odora 


304  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Prole  parens ;  per  aquas,  perque  arva,  per  omnia  late 
Ipse  suas  miratur  opes,  miratur  honores. 
Jam  Zepliyro  resoluta  suo  tumet  ebria  tellus, 
Et  crebro  bibit  imbre  Jovem,  sub  frondibus  altis 
Flora  sedens,  audit,  felix  !  quo  murmure  lapsis 
Foils  patrius  minitetur  aquis,  quae  vertice  crispo 
Respiciunt  tantum,  et  strepero  procul  agmine  pergunt. 
Audit,  et  arboreis  siquid  gemebunda  recurrens 
Garriat  aura  comis,  audit,  quibus  ipsa  susurris 
Annuit,  et  facili  cervice  reraurmurat  arbor. 
Quin  audit  querulas,  audit  quodcunque  per  umbras 
Flebilibus  Philomela  modis  miserabile  narrat. 
Turn  quoque  praecipue  blandis  Cytherea  per  orbem 
Spargitur  imperiis  ;  molles  turn  major  habenas 
Incutit  increpitans,  cestus  magis  ignea  rores 
Ingeminat,  tumidosque  sinus  flagrantior  ambit ; 
Nympharum  incedit  late,  Charitumque  corona 
Amplior,  et  plures  curru  jam  nectit  olores  : 
Quin  ipsos  quoque  turn  campis  emittit  apricis 
Laeta  parens  gremioque  omnes  effundit  Amores.     Venu.« 
Mille  ruunt  equites  blandi,  peditumque  protervae 
]\lille  ru4mt  acies  :  levium  pars  terga  ferarum 
Insiliunt,  gaudentque  suis  stimulare  sagittis  ; 
Pars  optans  gemino  multum  properare  volatu 
Ae'rios  conscendit  equos ;  hie  passere  blando 
Subsiliens  leve  ludit  iter  ;  micat  hue,  micat  illuc 
Hospitio  levis  incerto,  et  vagus  omnibus  umbris  : 
Verum  alter  gravidis  insurgens  major  habenis 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  SPRING.  305 

Maternas  molitur  aves  :  illi  improbus  acrem 
Versat  apem  similis,  seseque  agnoscit  in  illo. 
Et  brevibus  miscere  vias  ac  frangere  gyris  : 
Pars  leviter  per  prata  vagi  sua  lilia  dignis 
Contendunt  sociare  rosis  ;  turn  floreus  ordo 
Consilio  fragrante  venit ;  lascivit  in  omni 
Germine  laeta  manus ;  nitidis  nova  gloria  pennis 
Additur ;  illustri  gremio  sedet  aurea  messis ; 
Gaudet  odoratas  coma  blandior  ire  sub  umbras. 
Excutiunt  solitas,  immitia  tela,  sagittas, 
Eidentesque  aliis  pharetrae  spectantur  in  armis. 
Flore  manus,  et  flore  sinus,  flore  omnia  lucent. 
Undique  jam  flos  est.     Vitreas  hie  pronus  ad  undas 
Ingenium  illudentis  aquae,  fluitantiaque  ora, 
Et  vaga  miratur  trernulae  mendacia  formae. 
Inde  suos  probat  explorans,  et  judice  nympha 
Informat  radios,  ne  non  satis  igne  protervo 
Ora  tremant,  agilesque  docet  nova  fulgura  vultus, 
Atque  suo  vibrare  jubet  petulantius  astro. 

TRANSLATION. 
A  DESCRIPTION  OF  SPRING. 

The  time  is  come,  when,  lord  of  milder  hours, 
The  Sun,  ascending  fresh  with  larger  powers, 
Is  wont  to  woo  and  soothe  the  purple  Day, 
And,  brilliant  with  its  beaming  vernal  ray, 
To  climb  with  face  august  the  heavenly  way; 

VOL.  II.  x 


306  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

All  Nature's  love,  Earth's  hope  and  glory  golden, 

To  which  for  garlands  virgins  are  beholden. 

With  a  glad  plenty  of  all  living  things 

Sweet  tender  Spring  approaches  on  soft  wings. 

The  Year,  more  beauteous  now  with  offspring  new, 

And  crown'd  with  Youth's  fresh  flowers  of  every  hue, 

Delicious  odours  pours  from  happy  breast, 

Of  fragrant  progeny  the  parent  blest : 

O'er  verdant  fields,  blue  waters,  everywhere, 

At  his  own  wealth  he  wonders,  large  and  fair. 

By  her  own  Zephyr  thirsty  Earth  unbound 

Drinks  eagerly  the  showers  which  fall  all  round ; 

While  Flora,  sitting  where  tall  trees  appear, 

Lists,  0  how  happily !  as,  murmuring  near, 

A  father- fountain  chides  its  gliding  waters, 

Which  with  curl'd  head — alas,  unduteous  daughters — 

Only  look  back,  and  then  a  garrulous  band 

Pursue  their  laughing  way  o'er  all  the  land ; 

Lists  how  the  sighing,  oft-returning  air 

Soft  prattles  to  the  leafy  tresses  fair ; 

With  what  sweet  whispers  it  accosts  the  tree, 

Which  4vith  bow'd  head  makes  answer  murmuringly ; 

Lists,  lists  again,  while  through  the  mournful  shade 

Sad  Philomel's  pathetic  plaint  is  made. 

Now  chiefly  Venus  spreads  her  empire  sweet, 
And  calls  the  world  to  worship  at  her  feet ; 
Now  mightier  her  soft  reins  shakes  to  and  fro, 
Chiding,  and  makes  her  chariot  faster  go ; 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  SPRING.  307 

More  fiery  bids  her  cestus'  powers  abound, 

And  her  warm  swelling  bosom  girds  around  ; 

More  glorious  now,  circl'd  by  Nymphs  and  Graces, 

She  marches  forth,  and  to  her  chariot-traces 

She  yokes  more  swans.     Nay,  freer  than  before, 

Her  Loves  themselves,  the  sunny  meadows  o'er, 

From  her  maternal  bosom  see  her  pour; 

A  thousand  horsemen  sweet  career  around, 

Ten  thousand  wanton  footmen  scour  the  ground; 

Part  mount  the  backs  of  wild  beasts  as  they  run, 

And  their  own  goad-like  arrows  ply  in  fun ; 

Part  seek  wing'd  flight  to  urge  with  double  speed, 

And  so  ascend  each  one  an  airy  steed ; 

One,  vaulting  on  a  sparrow,  flits  away; 

Here  see  him  lightly  shine,  there  brightly  play, 

In  no  place  long ;  now  resting  here,  now  yonder, 

Wherever  shadows  woo  them,  lo,  they  wander. 

One,  rising  mightier  than  her  heavy  reins, 

His  Mother's  birds  attempts  with  lighter  chains. 

One,  bee-like,  brave  o'erthrows  an  angry  bee, 

Only  another  self  in  him  to  see ; 

In  tiny  circles  they  awhile  revolve, 

But  soon  their  interlacing  flight  dissolve. 

Part,  lightly  flitting  o'er  the  meadows  fair, 

Strive  their  own  lilies  with  meet  rose  to  pair. 

Now  flowery  tribes  in  fragrant  counsel  stand, 

Amid  the  buds  wantons  the  joyous  band. 

New  glory  on  their  shining  pinions  rests, 


308  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

A  golden  harvest  settles  on  their  breasts; 

With  sweeten'd  locks  to  odorous  shades  they  go, 

Their  arrows,  weapons  harsh,  away  they  throw, 

"While  other  arms  their  smiling  quivers  show. 

Flowers  in  their  hand,  flowers  in  their  breast,  are  seen, 

On  every  side  appears  a  flowery  sheen. 

One  Love,  reclin'd  beside  a  glassy  stream, 

Admires  the  nature  of  the  illusive  gleam, 

The  liquid  likeness  of  his  wavering  face, 

And  tremulous  deceit  of  imag'd  grace. 

Thence,  his  own  rays  examining,  he  tries 

And  fashions,  as  the  Nymph  may  chance  advise, 

That  braver  fires  may  tremble  in  his  eyes ; 

His  mobile  face  new  lightnings  flashes  far, 

With  rays  more  wanton,  bickering  like  a  star.    E.  Wi. 


PKISCIANUS  VERBERANS  ET  VAPULANS. 

The  two  following  poems — somewhat  out  of  character,  so 
to  say,  with  Crashaw — were  probably  prepared  for  a  tractate, 
which  it  nas  been  our  good  fortune  to  hap  on  in  the  Bodleian. 
It  is  a  Latin  burlesque  Poem,  filling  a  small  4to  of  20  pages, 
with  this  title : 

EN 

PBISCIANUS 
VEEBERANS 

ET 

VAPULANS. 

Jam  publicato  verberans  aures  stylo 
Qua  penis  iterum  vapulet,  metuit  crisin. 


PRISCIANUS  VERBERANS  ET  VAPULANS.  309 

Londini 

Excudebat  Augustinus  Mathewes  im- 
pensis  Koberti  Mulbourne  ad  insigne 
Canis  venatici  in  coemeterio  Paulino.  1632. 

The  words  '  Priscianus  Verberans  et  Vapulans '  remind  us  of 
the  once-famous  '  Comoedia '  of  Nicodemus  Freschlin  ;  but  the 
later  poem  shows  no  reminiscence  of  the  earlier.  These  de 
tails  will  doubtless  interest  and  amuse  in  relation  to  Crashaw's 
pieces.  Priscianus,  otherwise  Nisus,  a  schoolmaster,  whips  a 
boy  who  broke  and  dirtied  his  whipping-horse,  and  the  boy's 
parents  bring  an  action  against  him  for  assault.  The  place  is 
evidently  Aldborough  in  Suffolk — illumined  by  the  genius  of 
Crabbe — and  the  name  of  the  boy's  family  Coleman.  The 
poem  thus  begins  and  proceeds — the  marginal  notes  being 
placed  at  the  bottom  of  our  pages : 

Pinguibus  in  populi,  qui  dicitur  Austricus,1  arvis 
Praeturam,  fasces,  lictores  nuper  adepta 
Villa2  antiqua,  novo  jam  Burgi  turget  honore. 

He  describes  the  school : 

Vicinae  senior  Carbonius3  incola  villae, 
'  Lingua  vernacula  idem  quod  ai>epdi<av5pos, 

sends  his  son  as  a  scholar :  the  stipend  20s.  a  year : 

De  stipe3  consentit  genitor :  Carbunculus  intrat. 
He  describes  the  whipping-block,  the  judicious  use  of  which 
saves  boys  from  the  gallows : 

Iste  caballus 

Non  in  perniciem,  non  urbis  ut  ille  ruinam         the  Trojan 
Sed  curam  imberbis  populi,  regimenque  salubre : 
A  triplici  ligno4  lignum  hoc  penate  tuetur 
Praecipitem  aetatem. 

Young  Coleman  plays  truant  from  school,  and  one  day,  when 
the  school  is  empty,  breaks  and  defiles  the  horse.  He  openly 
boasts  of  his  feat,  and  returning  another  day  to  repeat  his  mis 
deed,  is  caught  by  Nisus,  who  mounts  him  on  the  injured 

1  In  agro  Sudovolgorum. 

2  Nomen  Elda  (Cancrorum  idiomate)  [backwards]. 

3  Pretium  annuum  haud  invidendum,  xxs. 

4  Patibulo,  quod  tribus  constat  lignis,  arrectariis  binis,  et  trabfe 
transversa. 


310  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

horse,  which,  by  poetical  license,  is  made  to  whinny  with  con 
tent.  The  youth  expects  twenty  cuts,  and  receives  four : 

Quattuor1  inflixit  tantum  mediocriter  ictus, 
Plures  optet  equus,  plures  daret  arbiter  aequus. 

Coleman  senior  calls  on  the  Schoolmaster,  who  remarks  that 
payment  for  his  son's  schooling  is  in  arrear.  Coleman  returns 
with  Mrs.  Coleman,  and  demands  a  receipt  for  the  payment, 
which  he  makes,  as  Nisus  discovers,  lest  a  counter-action  be 
brought  against  him : 

Vult  sibi  ut  absolvens2  accepti  latio  detur 
Consignata  manu  Nisi,  atque  a  teste  probata. 

Then  Mrs.  Coleman  shows  herself  deserving  of  the  cucking- 
stool  : 

bona  Carbonissa 

Inque  caput  Nisi  cumulata  opprobria  plaustro 
Digna  et  rixivomas  sub  aquis  mersante3  cathedra, 
Quinetiam  manibus  quasi  pugnatura  lacessit. 

They  bring  their  action  for  assault.  (The  English  words  in  the 
marginal  notes,  placed  below,  are  in  black-letter:) 

Nulla  mora  est,  juristam  adhibent,  de  fonte  dicarum 
Qui  populo  Placita  ad  Communia*  panditur,  exit 
Schedula  quod  vulgo5  Regis  Breve  dicitur :  illo 
Mox  capitur  Nisus,  geminoque  sub  obside  spondet 
In  responsurum  praescripto  tempore  :  tempus 
Cunctarum6  lux  est  animarum  crastini.     Verum 
Actor  quis  ?7     Puer  ipse,  virum  qui  provocat,  annos 
Nondum  bis-senos  superans.     Sed  et  actio  quaenam? 
Quid  crimen?     Pravus  atque  atrox  injuria,  tristes 
Et  tragicae  ambages,  ampullae  sesquipedales, 
Quod*  Regis  contra  pacem  vi  Nisus,  et  armis 

1  Quattuor,  quia  equus  quadrupes  videbatur  in  earn  sententiam 
quasi  pedibus  ire.  2  Vulgo  acquietantia. 

3  Organum  est  librite  hydrobapticum  ad  omnium  ripas  situm, 
linguae  f ervore  ref rigerando. 

4  The  Common  Pleas  hi  Westminster  Hall.  5  A  writ. 
6  The  return  of  the  writ  [the  morrow  of  All  Souls]. 

?  The  plaintiff. 

8  Stylus  curiae.  Si  quis  alicui  in  jurgiopilum  imminuerit,  prodit 
tragica  accusatio  de  insultu  et  vulnere,  ita  quod  de  ejus  vita  despera- 
batur.  O  f orensem  exaggerationem ! 


PRISCIANUS  VERBERANS  ET  VAPULANS.  311 

Insultum  fecit,  male  tractans  verbere  eaevo 
Verberibus  diris  adeo,  plenisque  pericli 
De  pueri  vita  ut  desperaretur. 

The  poem  ends,  leaving  poor  Nisus  in  the  midst  of  his  first  law 
suit  : 

Ecce 
Nisus,  jam  primum  Nisus  miser  ambulat  in  jus  : 

and  the  marginal  note  is  '  In  causis  litigiosis  sive  casibus 
inscriptionum  stylus  Johannes  de  Stiles  versus  Johannem  de 
Nokes.'  A  concluding  chronogram  gives  the  year  1629  : 

LVDI  Maglster  Lite  VeXatVr  forl. 

The  Schoolmaster's  friends  have  written  him  complimentary 
epigrams,  which  are  prefixed  to  his  poem.  One  is  worth  re 
producing,  as  it  has  an  echo  of  Crashaw's  : 

Ad  KoirpoxpvffovvTa 

Suavia  nonnulli  lutulento  carmine  narrant : 
Turpia  tu  nitido,  Nise  poeta,  places. 

In  black-letter,  as  follows  : 

Some  cloath  faire  tales  in  sluttish  eloquence  : 
Thy  tale  is  foule,  thy  verse  is  frankincense. 

T.  Lovering  Artium  Ludiq.  Magister. 

There  seems  little  doubt  that  Crashaw's  two  poems  were 
born  of  this  anonymous  tractate.  Cf.  '  rixivomas'  (p.  310)  with 
'  vomitivam'  and  '  rixosa  volumina  linguae.'  Biographically 
they  and  others  secular  have  a  special  interest  and  value.  My 
good  friend  Eev.  Kichard  Wilton,  as  before,  has  very  happily 
translated  these  playthings.  G. 

Quid  facis  ?  ah,  tarn  perversa  quid  volvitur  ira  ? 

Quid  parat  iste  tuus,  posterns  iste  furor  ? 
Ah,  truculente  puer,  tarn  foedo  parce  furori. 

Nee  rapiat  tragicas  tarn  gravis  ira  nates. 
Ecce  fremit,  fremit  ecce  indignabundus  Apollo. 

Castalides  fugiunt,  et  procul  ora  tegunt. 


312  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Sic  igitur  sacrum,  sic  insedisse  caballum 

Quaeris  ?  et,  ah,  fieri  tarn  male  notus  eques  1 
Ille  igitur  phaleris  nitidus  lucebit  in  istis  ? 

Haec  erit  ad  solidum  turpis  habena  latus  ? 
His  ille,  ha  ad  nimium  rigidis,  dabit  ora  lupatis  ? 

Haec  fluet  in  miseris  sordida  vitta  jubis? 
Sic  erit  ista  tui,  sic  aurea  pompa  triuinphi  1 

Ille  sub  imperiis  ibit  olentis  heri  ? 
Ille  tamen  neque  terribili  stat  spumeus  ira ; 

Ungula  nee  celso  fervida  calce  tonat. 
()  merito  spectatur  equi  patientia  nostri ! 

Dicite  lo,  tantum  quis  toleravit  equus  ? 
Pegasus  iste  ferox,  mortales  spretus  habenas. 

Bellerophontaea  non  tulit  ire  manu. 
Noster  equus  tamen  exemplo  non  turget  in  isto  : 

Stat  bonus,  et  solito  se  pede  certus  habet. 
Imo  licet  tantos  de  te  tulit  ille  pudores, 

Te  tulit  ille  iterum,  sed  meliore  modo. 
Tune  rubor  in  scapulas  0  quam  bene  transiit  iste, 

Qui  satis  in  vultus  noluit  ire  tuos ! 
At  mater  centum  in  furias  abit,  et  vomit  iram 

Mille  modis  rabidam  jura,  forumque  fremit. 
Quin  fera  tu  taceas;  aut  jura  forumque  tacebunt : 

Tu  legi  vocem  non  sinis  esse  suam. 
O  male  vibratae  rixosa  volumina  linguae, 

Et  satis  in  nullo  verba  tonanda  foro  ! 
Causidicos,  vesana  !  tuos  tua  fulmina  terrent. 

Ecce  stupent  miseri,  ah,  nee  meminere  loqui. 


PRISCIANUS  VEKBERANS  ET  VAPULANS.  313 

Hinc  tua,  foede  puer,  foedati  hinc  terga  caballi 

Exercent  querulo  jurgia  lenta  foro. 
Obscaenas  lites,  et  olentia  jurgia  ridet 

Turpiter  in  causam  sollicitata  Themis. 
Juridicus  lites  quisquis  tractaverit  istas, 

0  satis  emuncta  nare  sit  ille,  precor, 
At  tu  de  misero  quid  vis,  truculente,  caballo  1 

Cur  premis  insultans,  saeve,  tyranne  puer  ! 
Tene  igitur  fugiet  1  fugiet  sacer  iste  caballus  ? 

Xon  fugiet,  sed,  si  vis,  tibi  terga  dabit.1 

TRANSLATION. 
PBISCIANUS  BEATING  AND  BEING  BEATEN. 

What  wouldest  thou  ?  why  rolls  thy  wayward  ire  ? 
What  means  that  rage  of  thine  dirty  and  dire  ? 
Ah,  savage  boy,  such  fury  foul  forbear, 
Nor  let  thy  wrath  those  tragic  buttocks  tear. 
Apollo,  all  indignant,  groans  and  sighs  ; 
The  Muses  flee,  and  hide  them  from  thine  eyes. 
Thus  dost  thou  seek  to  sit  the  sacred  steed  ? 
Thus  to  become  a  horseman  fam'd  indeed  ! 
In  such  adornment  shall  he  brightly  shine  ? 
His  firm  flank  lash'd  by  this  base  whip  of  thine  1 
His  mouth  to  this  loose  bit  shall  he  deliver  ? 
O'er  his  poor  mane  this  filthy  fillet  quiver? 

1  It  is  not  easy  to  bring-out  the  play  on  terga  dabit — '  terga 
dare'  being  equivalent  to  '  fugere' — and  yet  indicative  of  the 
boy's  punishment  on  the  back  of  the  whipping-horse. 


314  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

In  golden  triumph  thus  shalt  thou  proceed, 

So  rank  a  lord  bestriding  such  a  steed  ? 

Yet  foaming  with  dire  rage  he  does  not  stand, 

Nor  with  hot  hoof  go  thundering  o'er  the  land. 

Our  horse's  patience  is  a  wond'rous  sight ! 

0,  say,  what  horse  before  endur'd  such  wight  ? 

Old  Pegasus,  despising  mortal  sway, 

Bellerophon's  strong  hand  disdain'd  to  obey  : 

And  yet  with  no  such  rage  swells  this  our  horse ; 

Quiet  he  stands,  and  holds  his  wonted  course. 

Nay,  though  he  bore  such  shame  from  thee  that  day, 

Again  he  bore  thee — in  a  better  way  ! 

Then  to  thy  shoulders  fitly  pass'd  the  blush, 

Which  to  thy  countenance  refus'd  to  rush. 

His  mother  furious  raves  and  wildly  splutters 

A  thousand  spites,  and  of  the  law-courts  mutters. 

Peace,  woman !  or  the  law-courts  thou  wilt  awe ; 

Thou  dost  not  leave  its  own  voice  to  the  Law. 

0  fractious  eddies  of  the  brandish'd  tongue, 

Such  words  as  in  no  law-court  ever  rung. 

Thy  very  lawyers  from  thy  thunders  hide  : 

Lo,  they  forget  to  speak,  as  stupefied. 

Thus,  thus,  foul  boy,  thy  fouled  horse's  hide 

By  wrangling  law-court's  tedious  strife  is  plied. 

While  Justice,  summon'd  to  a  cause  so  vile, 

Views  the  rank  strife  obscene  with  scornful  smile. 

Whatever  judge  such  nasty  action  tries, 

See  that  he  blow  his  nose  well,  I  advise. 


AD  LIBRUM.  315 

But  why  would st  thou,  cruel,  tyrannic  boy, 
With  thy  insulting  weight  that  horse  annoy  ? 
That  sacred  steed,  will  it,  then,  from  thee  flee  ? — 
'Twill  not  turn  tail,  but  lend  its  back  to  thee  !    E.  Wi. 


AD  LIBRUM 

SUPER  HAG  RE  AB  IPSO  LUDI  MAGISTRO  EDITUM,  QUI  DICI- 
TUR  'PRISCIANUS  VERBERANS  ET  VAPULANS.' 

Sordes  6  tibi  gratulamur  istas, 
0  Musa  aurea,  blanda,  delicata ; 
0  Musa,  6  tibi  Candidas,  suoque 
Jam  nee  nomine,  jam  nee  ore  notas  : 
Sacro  carmine  quippe  delinitae 
Se  mine,  6  bene  nesciunt,  novaque 
Mirantur  facie  novum  nitorem. 
Ipsas  tu  facis  6  nitere  sordes. 
Sordes  6  tibi  gratulamur  ipsas. 
Si  non  hie  natibus  procax  malignis 
Foedo  fulmine  turpis  intonasset, 
Unde  insurgeret  haec  querela  vindex, 
Docto  et  murmure  carminis  severi 
Dulces  fortiter  aggregaret  iras  1 
Ipsae  6  te  faciunt  nitere  sordes  : 
Sordes  6  tibi  gratulamur  ipsas. 

Quam  pulchre  tua  migrat  Hippocrene  ! 
Turpi  quam  bene  degener  parenti ! 


316  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Foedi  filia  tarn  serena  fontis. 

Has  de  stercore  quis  putaret  undas  ? 

Sic  6  lactea  surge,  Musa,  surge ; 

Surge  inter  medias  serena  sordes. 

Spumis  qualiter  in  suis  Dione, 

Cum  prompsit  latus  aureum,  atque  primas 

Ortu  purpureo  movebat  undas. 

Sic  6  lactea  surge,  Musa,  surge  : 

Enni  stercus  erit  Maronis  aurum. 

TRANSLATION. 
TO  A  TKACTATE  ON  THIS  SUBJECT 

PUBLISHED  BY  THE  MASTER  OF  THE  SCHOOL  HIMSELF, 

WHICH  IS  CALLED  'PRISCIANUS  VERBERANS  ET 

VAPULANS.' 

On  this  vile  theme  thee  we  congratulate, 

0  golden  Muse,  pleasing  and  delicate; 

This  fair  white  vileness,  Muse,  which  by  its  own 

Or  name  or  face  is  now  no  longer  known. 

For,  charin'd  by  thy  poetic  sacred  strain, 

It  knows^not,  happily,  itself  again  ; 

But  with  new  face  wonders  at  its  new  splendour — 

For  splendid  e'en  a  vile  theme  thou  canst  render  : 

Congratulations  for  vile  theme  we  tender. 

For  had  not  he,1  with  headlong  buttocks  base, 

Gone  flashing  foully  on  with  thunderous  pace, 

1  Alluding  to  Pegasus,  and  the  fountain  caused  by  stroke 
of  hoof. 


STOMACHUS  PURGATUR.  317 

• 

From  whence  would  this  avenging  plant  have  sprung, 
This  solemn  strain  with  polish'd  music  rung  ? 
And  whence  had  gather'd  these  brave  angers  tender  ? 
O  Muse,  the  vilest  theme  can  bring  thee  splendour, 
For  which  congratulations  now  we  render. 

Thy  Hippocrene  comes  with  a  fair  face, 
Finely  unworthy  of  its  father  base  ; 
Of  a  foul  fountain  so  serene  a  daughter  : 
From  dunghill,  who  would  dream  such  crystal  water  1 

Thus  rise,  0  Muse,  0  rise,  a  milk-white  queen, 
Out  of  the  midst  of  vileness  rise  serene. 
Even  as  Venus  rising  from  her  spray, 
When  she  discover'd  to  the  light  of  day 
Her  golden  limbs,  the  billowy  waves  surprising 
With  the  first  glory  of  her  purple  rising  ; 
So  rise,  0  Muse,  thy  milk-white  grace  unfold ; 
Ennius'  dunghill  will  be  Virgil's  gold  !  K.  Wi. 


MELIUS  PURGATUR  STOMACHUS  PER 

VOMITUM  QUAM  PER  SECESSUM. 

Dum  vires  refero  vomitus  et  nobile  munus, 
Da  mihi  de  vomitu,  grandis  Homere,  tuo. 

Xempe  olim,  multi  cum  carminis  anxia  moles 
Vexabat  stomachum,  magne  Poeta,  tuum  ; 

Aegraque  jejuno  tenuebat  pectora  morsu, 
Jussit  et  in  crudam  semper  hiare  famem  : 


318  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

• 

Phoebus,  ut  est  medicus,  vomitoria  pocula  praebens, 

Morbum  omnem  longos  expulit  in  vomitus. 
Protinus  et  centum  incumbunt  toto  ore  Poetae, 

Certantes  sacras  lambere  relliquias. 
Quod  vix  fecissent,  scio,  si  medicamen  ineptum 

Yenisset  misere  posteriore  via. 
Quippe  per  anfractus  caecique  volumina  ventris 

Sacra,  putas,  liostem  vult  medicina  sequi  1 
Tarn  turpes  tenebras  haec  non  dignatur,  at  ipsum 

Sedibus  ex  imis  imperiosa  traliit. 

ERGO  : 
Per  vomit  am  stomacbus  melius  purgabitur,  alvus 

Quam  qua  secretis  exit  opaca  viis. 

NOTE. 

While  we  do  not  deem  it  expedient  to  translate  this  some 
what  coarse  jeu  d'esprit,  its  sentiment  and  allusions  will  be 
found  anticipated  in  the  lines  '  To  the  Reader,  upon  the  Author 
his  Kins-man,'  prefixed  to  '  Follie's  Anatomic ;  or  Satyres  and 
Satyricall  Epigrams ;  with  a  compendious  History  of  Ixion's 
Wheele.  Compiled  by  Henry  Hutton,  Dunelmensis.'  London, 
1619  (pp.  3-4) — which  we  give  here  : 

Old  Homer  in  his  time  made  a  great  feast, 
And  every  Poet  was  thereat  a  guest : 
All  h4id  their  welcome,  yet  not  all  one  fare; 
To  them  above  the  salt  (his  chiefest  care) 
He  spread  a  banquet  of  choice  Poesie, 
Whereon  they  fed  even  to  satietie. 
The  lower  end  had  from  that  end  their  cates  ; 
For  Homer,  setting  open  his  dung-gates, 
Delivered  from  that  dresser  excrement, 
Whereon  they  glutted,  and  returned  in  print. 
Let  no  man  wonder  that  I  this  rehearse  ; 
Nought  came  from  Homer  but  it  turned  to  verse. 


AD  AMIGUM  R.  BROOKE.  319 

Now  where  our  Author  was,  at  this  good  cheere, 

Where  was  his  place,  or  whether  he  were  there  ; 

Whether  he  waited,  or  he  tooke  away, 

Of  this  same  point  I  cannot  soothly  say. 

But  this  I  ghesse :  being  then  a  dandiprat, 

Some  witty  Poet  took  him  on  his  lap, 

And  fed  him,  from  ahove,  with  some  choice  bit. 

Hence  his  acumen,  and  a  ready  wit. 

But  prayers  from  a  friendly  pen  ill  thrive, 

And  truth's  scarce  truth,  spoke  by  a  relative. 

Let  envy,  therefore,  give  her  vote  herein  : 

Envy  and  th'  Author  sure  are  nought  akin. 

He  personate  bad  Envy ;  yet  say  so, 

He  lickt  at  Homer's  mouth,  not  from  below. 

B[ALPH]  H  [UTTON]  . 

Percy  Society  edit.  (Rimbault),  1842.  Both  Hutton  and  Cra- 
shaw  remind  us  of  the  like  sportiveness  (rough)  in  Dryden  and 
Byron.  G. 


CUM  HOPOJM  ALIQUA  DEDICAKAM 

PRAECEPTORI  MEO  COLEXDISSIMO,  AMICO  AMICISSIMO, 
R.  BROOKE.1 

En  tibi  Musam,  Praeceptor  colendissime,  quas  ex 
tuis  modo  scholis,  quasi  ex  Apollinis  officina,  accepit 
alas  timide  adhuc,  nee  aliter  quam  sub  oculis  tuis  jacti- 
tantem. 

Qualiter  e  nido  multa  jam  floridus  ala 
Astra  sibi  meditatur  avis,  pulchrosque  meatus 
Aerios  inter  proceres,  licet  aethera  nunquam 
Expertus,  rudibusque  illi  sit  in  ardua  pennis 

1  See  Memorial-Introduction,  vol.  i.,  and  our  Essay  in  the 
present  Volume,  for  notices  of  Brooke.  G. 


320  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Prima  fides,  micat  ire  tamen,  quatiensque  decora 
Veste  leves  humeros,  querulumque  per  aera  ludens 
Nil  dubitat  vel  in  astra  vagos  suspendere  nisus, 
At  vero  simul  immensum  per  inane  profundis 
Exhaustus  spatiis,  vacuoque  sub  aethere  pendens, 
Arva  procul  sylvasque  suas,  procul  omnia  cernit, 
Cernere  quae  solitus  :  turn  vero  victa  cadit  mens, 
Spesque  suas,  et  tanta  timens  conamina,  totus 
Eespicit  ad  matrem,  pronisque  revertitur  auris. 

Quod  tibi  enim  haec  feram,  vir  ornatissirne,  non 
ambitio  dantis  est,  sed  justitia  reddentis ;  neque  te 
libelli  mei  tarn  elegi  patronum,  quam  dominum  agnosco. 
Tua  sane  sunt  haec  et  mea ;  neque  tamen  ita  mea  sunt, 
quin  si  quid  in  illis  boni  est,  tuum  hoc  sit  totum,  neque 
interim,  in  tantum  tua,  ut  quantumcumque  est  in  illis 
mali,  illud  non  sit  ex  integro  meum.  Ita  medio  quodam 
et  misto  jure  utriusque  sunt,  ne  vel  mihi,  dum  me  in  so- 
cietatem  tuar'um  laudum  elevarem,  invidiam  facerem  ; 
vel  injuriam  tibi,  ut  qui  te  in  tenuitatis  meae  consortium 
deducere  conarer.  Ego  enim  de  meo  nihil  ausimboni 
mecum  agnoscere,  nedum  profiteri  palam,  praeter  hoc 
unum,  quo  tamen  nihil  melius,  animum  nempe  non 
ingratum  tuorum  beneficiorum  historian!  religiosissima 
fide  in  se  reponentem.  Hoc  quibuscumque  testibus 
coram,  hoc  palam  in  os  coeli  meaeque  conscientiae  meum 
jacto  effero  me  in  hoc  ultra  aemuli  patientiam.  Enim 
vero  elegantiore  obsequio  venerentur  te,  et  venerantur 


TO  MY  PRECEPTOR  DR.  BROOKE.         321 

scio,  tuorum  alii:  nemo  me  sincere  magis  vel  ingenuo 
poterit.  Horum  denique  rivulorum,  tenuium  utcunque 
nulliusque  nominis,  haec  saltern  laus  erit  propria,  quod 
suum  nempe  norint  Oceanum. 

TRANSLATION. 
WHEN  I  HAD  DEDICATED  CEKTAIN  OF  MY  POEMS 

TO  MY  MOST  ESTIMABLE  PKECEPTOK  AND  MOST  FRIENDLY 
FRIEND,  R.  BROOKE. 

'  Well  done,  Muse  !'  was  thy  encouraging  word, 
most  estimable  Praeceptpr;  'Well  done,  Muse  !'  flutter 
ing  its  wings,  which  it  received  from  thy  School  of  late, 
as  from  Apollo's  workshop,  timidly  as  yet,  nor  otherwise 
than  beneath  thine  eyes. 

Like  as  a  nestling,  feather'd  gaily  o'er, 
Is  meditating  towards  the  stars  to  soar, 
And  in  ambitious  flights  already  vies 
With  the  wing'd  chiefs  that  skim  along  the  skies  : 
What  though  he  never  has  essay 'd  the  air, 
And  needs  must  trust  in  plumes  untried  to  bear 
Unwonted  burden  heavenward1?  yet  he  quivers 
To  stretch  his  wings,  and  his  fair  plumage  shivers 
Round  his  light  shoulders  till  he  flits  away, 
While  whispering  airs  against  his  pinions  play ; 
Nor  dreams  he  will  suspend  his  wandering  flight 
Anywhere  short  of  regions  starry  bright. 
But  when  exhausted  by  the  spaces  high 
And  the  immeasurable  void  of  sky, 

VOL.  ii.  y 


322  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Hovering  in  empty  air,  far  off  he  sees 
The  fields  and  hedges  and  familiar  trees — 
0,  how  far  off ! — which  used  his  sight  to  please ; 
Then  sudden  overpower'd  behold  him  sink, 
And  from  his  hopes  and  lofty  soarings  shrink  : 
To  his  dear  mother  his  whole  soul  looks  "back, 
And  down  he  flutters  on  the  homeward  track. 

That  I  offer  thee  these  poems,  most  honourable  Sir, 
is  not  the  ambitious  desire  to  give,  but  the  righteous 
wish  to  restore  what  is  due.  And  I  have  not  chosen 
thee  so  much  the  patron  of  my  little  book,  as  I  recog 
nise  thee  to  be  its  owner.  Thine  indeed  these  things 
are,  and  mine  :  nor  yet  are  they  so  much  mine,  but 
that  if  there  is  anything  good  in  them,  this  is  wholly 
thine ;  nor  at  the  same  time  are  they  so  far  thine,  that 
everything  bad  in  them  is  not  entirely  mine.  Thus, 
by  a  sort  of  common  and  joint  right,  they  belong  to 
each  of  us ;  lest  either  I  should  bring  envy  to  myself, 
while  I  presumed  to  a  share  of  thy  praises,  or  injury 
to  thee,  by  endeavouring  to  drag  thee  down  to  associ 
ation  wjth  my  feebleness.  For  concerning  anything 
belonging  to  me,  I  should  not  venture  even  to  myself 
to  admit  any  merit,  much  less  to  proclaim  it  openly, 
except  this  one  thing,  than  which  there  is  nothing 
more  excellent — namely,  a  mind  not  ungrateful,  and 
cherishing  in  itself  with  most  punctilious  fidelity  the 
record  of  thy  kindnesses. 


IN  OBITUM  REV.  V.  DRIS.  MANSELL.  323 

This  in  the  presence  of  any  witnesses,  this  openly 
in  the  face  of  heaven  and  to  my  own  conscience,  I  boast 
of  as  my  own.  I  proclaim  myself  in  this  particular  in 
capable  of  enduring  a  rival ;  for  others  of  thy  admirers 
[pupils]  may  venerate  thee,  and  do  venerate  thee,  with 
more  polite  attention,  but  none  will  be  able  to  do  so 
with  observance  more  sincere  and  felt.  In  conclusion ; 
of  these  rivulets,  however  slender  they  may  be  and  of 
no  name,  this  at  least  will  be  the  fitting  praise — that 
at  all  events  they  know  their  own  Ocean.  E.  Wi. 


IK  OBITUM  KEY.  Y.  DB"  MANSELL, 

COLL.  BEGIN.  Mri  QUI  VEN.  D1  BROOKE  [Mri  COLL.  TRIN.], 
INTERITUM  PROXIME  SECUTUS  EST.1 

Ergo  iterum  in  lacrymas  et  saevi  murmura  planctus 

Ire  jubet  tragica  mors  iterata  manu  ; 
Scilicet  ilia  novas  quae  jam  fert  dextra  sagittas, 

D  extra  priore  recens  sanguine  stillat  adhuc.     , 
Yos  6,  quos  socia  Lachesis  prope  miscuit  urna, 

Et  vicina  coins  vix  sinit  esse  duos ; 
Ite  6,  quos  nostri  jungunt  consortia  damni ; 

Per  nostras  lacrymas  6  nimis  ite  pares ; 

i  See  notice  of  Dr.  Mansell  in  note  to  the  translation.  The 
present  poem  is  printed  by  Mr.  Searle  in  his  '  History  of  the 
Queen's  College  &c.'  1871,  pp.  448-9.  G. 


324  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Ite  per  Elysias  felici  tramite  valles, 

Et  sociis  animos  conciliate  viis. 
Illic  ingentes  ultro  confundite  manes, 

No-scat  et  aeternara  mutua  dextra  fidem. 
Communes  eadem  spargantur  in  otia  curae, 

Atque  idem  felix  poscat  utrumque  labor. 
Nectarae  simul  ite  vagis  sermonibus  horae ; 

Nox  trahat  alternas  continuata  vices. 
Una  cibos  ferat,  una  suas  vocet  arbor  in  umbras  ; 

Ambobus  faciles  herba  det  una  toros. 
Certum  erit  interea  quanto  sit  major  habenda 

Quam  quae  per  vitam  est,  mortis  amicitia. 

TRANSLATION. 
ON  THE  DEATH  OF  REV.  DR.  MANSELL, 

MASTER  OF  QUEEN5 S  COLLEGE,  WHICH  FOLLOWED  VERT  CLOSELY 
THE  DECEASE  OF  REV.  DR.  BROOKE.1 

In  tears  once  more  and  sighs  of  cruel  woe 
Death's  tragic  stroke  repeated  bids  us  go ; 

1  '  John  Mansel  or  Mansell  was  of  the  county  of  Lincoln, 
and  was^entered  at  the  college  (Queen's)  as  a  sizar  29th  March 
1594,  under  Clement  Smith,  nephew  of  Sir  Thomas  Smith.  He 
was  B.A.  1597-8,  was  made  scholar  in  1598,  and  elected  fellow 
of  the  college  31st  June  1600.  Romney  and  Bilsington,  priories 
in  Kent,  were  founded  in  1257  by  John  Maunsell,  provost  of 
Beverley,  treasurer  of  York,  rector  of  Maidstone,  Kent,  and  of 
Wigan,  Lancashire  ;  he  was  also  Chief -justice  of  England.  "  I 
have  seen  a  pedigree  of  the  Mansels,  from  Philip  de  Mansel, 
who  came  in  with  the  Conqueror,  untill  our  times.  Of  this 
name  and  familie  is  that  orthodoxall  sound  Divine  and  worthy 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  REV.  DR.  MANSELL.      325 

That  fatal  hand,  which  now  bears  arrows  new, 
Still  freshly  drips  with  former  crimson  dew. 
Ye  whom  Fate  almost  mingl'd  in  one  urn, 
Whom  to  be  two,  close  threads  forbid  discern ; 
Go  ye,  who  equally  our  sorrows  share, 
By  reason  of  our  tears  too  much  a  pair; 
Go  where  Elysian  vales  your  steps  invite, 
In  social  paths  your  happy  souls  unite ; 
There  mix  your  mighty  shades  with  willing  mind, 
Eternal  faith  your  blended  right-hands  find. 
Let  common  cares  be  lost  in  the  same  joys, 
While  the  same  happy  labour  both  employs ; 
Through  nectar'd  hours  in  talk  together  range, 
And  night  continue  the  sweet  interchange  : 


Master  of  Queen's  Colledge  in  Cambridge,  John  Mansel,  Doc 
tor  of  Divinitie,  and  a  generall  schollare  in  all  good  literature." 
(Weever,  Fun.  Mon.  273-4.)  He  commenced  M.A.  in  1601,  and 
was  B.D.  in  1609.  From  the  year  1604  to  the  year  1617  he 
seems  to  have  been  in  residence,  as  he  held  various  college 
offices  and  college  lectureships  in  every  year  of  that  period. 
He  was  senior  bursar  for  the  two  years  1609-10  and  1610-11. 
He  was  vicar  of  Hockington  from  2d  September  1614  to  May 
1616.  He  vacated  his  fellowship  in  the  course  of  the  year 
1616-17,  receiving  his  stipend  for  three  and  half  weeks  in  the 
third  quarter,  so  that  he  ceased  to  be  fellow  towards  the  end  of 
July  1617.  He  became  D.D.  in  1622.  He  was  elected  pre 
sident  [of  Queen's  College]  29th  April  1622.  .  .  .  Dr.  Mansel 
died  7th  October  1631.'  (From  Mr.  Searle's  '  History  of  the 
Queen's  College  &c.,'  as  before,  pp.  447-8.)  Agreeably  to  the 
heading,  Dr.  Samuel  Brooke  died  September  1631  (MS.  Baker 
xxvi.  167 ;  Wood's  Fasti  (Bliss),  pt.  i.  p.  400.  Crashaw  cele 
brated  Brooke,  as  did  Dr.  Donne."  See  English  Poems  in  vol.  i., 
and  Epitaphium  onward.  G. 


326  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

One  tree  bear  fruit  for  both,  one  tree  yield  shade, 
On  the  same  turf  your  pleasant  couch  be  made ; 
Thus  how  much  better  will  be  plainly  seen 
Friendship  of  Death  than  that  of  life,  I  ween.    E.  Wi. 


HONOEATISSIMO  DE.  EOBEETO  HEATH, 

SUMMO  JUSTIT.  DE  COM.  BANCO,  GRATULATIO.1 

Ignitum  latus  et  sacrum  tibi  gratulor  ostrum, 

0  amor  atque  tuae  gloria  magna  togae  : 
Nam  video  Themis  ecce  humeris,  Themis  ardet  in  istis, 

Inque  tuos  gaudet  tota  venire  sinus. 
0  ibi  purpureo  quam  se  bene  porrigit  astro, 

Et  docet  hie  radios  luxuriare  suos. 
Imo  eat  aeterna  sic  6  Themis  aurea  pompa ; 

Hie  velit  6  sidus  semper  habere  suum. 
Sic  flagret,  et  nunquam  tua  purpura  palleat  intus ; 

0  nunquam  in  vultus  digna  sit  ire  tuos. 
Sanguine*  ab  innocuo  nullos  bibat  ilia  rubores ; 

Nee  tarn  crudeli  murice  proficiat. 
Quaeque  tibi  est  (nam  quae  non  est  tibi  ?)  Candida  virtus 

Fortunam  placide  ducat  in  alta  tuam. 
Nullius  viduae  lacrymas  tua  marmora  sudent ; 

Nee  sit,  quae  inclamet  te,  tibi  facta  domus. 

1  See  notice  of  Heath  in  note  to  the  translation.     G. 


TO  THE  RIGHT  HON.  LORD  ROBERT  HEATH.          327 

Non  gemat  ulla  suam  pinus  tibi  scissa  ruinam, 

Ceu  cadat  in  domini  imirmure  maesta  sui. 
Fama  suas  subter  pennas  tibi  sternat  eunti ; 

Ilia  tubae  faciat  te  melioris  opus. 
Thura  tuo,  quacunque  meat,  cum  nomine  migrent ; 

Quaeque  vehit  felix  te,  vehat  aura  rosas. 
Vive  tuis,  nee  enim  non  sunt  aequissima,  votis 

Aequalis,  quae  te  sidera  cunque  vocant. 
Haec  donee  niveae  cedat  tua  purpura  pallae, 

Lilium  ibi  fuerit,  quae  rosa  vestis  erat. 

TRANSLATION. 

TO  THE  RIGHT  HON.  LORD  ROBERT  HEATH, 

ON  HIS  BEING  MADE  A  JUDGE  :    A  CONGRATULATION.1 

Upon  thy  sacred  purple,  barr'd  with  fire, 
I  gratulate  thee — glorious,  lov'd  attire  ! 
For  on  those  shoulders  I  see  Justice  shine, 
And  glad  to  hide  within  those  folds  of  thine. 

1  '  Lord'  is  titular,  not  of  the  peerage.  Doubtless  Cra- 
shaw  celebrates  Sir  Robert  Heath,  Kt. ,  who  was  successively 
Recorder  of  London,  Solicitor- General,  Attorney-General,  and 
finally,  26th  October  1631,  Chief-Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas. 
From  this  post  he  appears  to  have  been  dismissed  three  years 
later;  but  in  1641  he  was  appointed  a  Judge  of  the  King's 
Bench,  and  in  1643  Chief-Justice  of  that  court,  when  he  would 
be  commonly  called  '  Lord  Chief -Justice  of  England. '  Being  a 
Royalist,  he  fled  into  France  in  1646,  and  died  at  Calais  30th 
August  1649.  His  remains  were  brought  to  England  and  buried 
at  Brasted,  Kent,  in  which  church  there  is  a  fine  monument. 
His  age  was  seventy-five.  G. 


SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

0  finely  there  she  shoots  her  purple  beam, 

And  teaches  here  her  rays  brightly  to  gleam. 

May  Justice  thus  in  pomp  eternal  go, 

Here  always  wish  her  golden  star  to  glow  ! 

Thus  blaze,  and  ne'er  thy  purple  pale  its  blush, 

And  never  need  into  thy  face  to  flush. 

From  innocent  blood  ne'er  drink  a  deeper  dye, 

And  turn  more  crimson  from  such  cruelty. 

Let  all  fair  virtues — for  thou  ownest  all — 

Calmly  to  heaven  above  thy  footsteps  call. 

No  widows'  tears  thy  marble  halls  distil, 

No  house  cry  out  against  thee,  built  by  ill ; 

No  timber  cut  for  thee  its  downfall  groan, 

'Mid  its  lord's  murmurs  sadly  overthrown. 

May  Fame  spread  out  her  wings  beneath  thy  feet, 

And  thee  with  loud  applause  her  trumpet  greet ! 

May  incense  waft  thy  name  where'er  it  goes, 

The  happy  gale  which  bears  thee  bear  the  rose  ! 

Live  equal  to  thy  prayers,  most  just  are  they, 

Whatever  stars  direct  thee  on  thy  way, 

Till  this  thy  purple  turn  to  robe  of  snow, 

And  where  the  rose  had  been,  the  lily  glow !      E.  Wi. 


HORATII  ODE, 
Ille  et  nefasto  te  posuit  die,  &c.    Lib.  ii.  13. 


xsTvog  6%xtv  d 
'  O  vrpwrog  ocrig  y^ipi 

s,  devdpov,  r^c,  rs 
A/V/ov,  sffffo/Atvcijv  r 
og  roxyjog  dpv-^s  xa/ 
Ks/Voj  ys,  patyjv,  a'i[j.ari 


Tck  dv}Ta  KoX^wi/  (pdp/Aaxct,  xa/ 
Tlav  xprifAa,  b<*)ffa$  /toi  sff^upiov 
2s  ffrv/vbv  &pvo$)  dsff-Trorov  ffs 

"'EfAKSffov  eg  xj^aX^i/  dsr/cug. 
Haffr^g  ftsv  ujp'ns  vav  sirixivdvvov 
Tic  oJds  tpevysiv,  dsi'dit  TSo 


iyjv  srepuOsv  oxvsT. 
HdpQuv  f^d^rifjjQv  'Puftaixoc.  tpvyqv 
Kai  r6%n'  TldpQog  'PufAafxqv  fiiav, 
Kat  dscftd,'  Xaoyg  o?XXa  j&oi' 
BaXXs,  jSaXferr*  ddoxqrog 


330  HORATII  ODE  GILEC. 


ff^edov  true, 
//,gXam3V,  xa/  xpiffiv  A/'axoD, 

v  r'  d'Trooraffiv 
A/'oA/a/g  xtvvpqv  re 
w  irarpidog  /AS{/,(po{j.sv7}v  xopaig, 
xa/  trs  </rXg/bi/  s 


rs 

a/i,(porspuv 
,  raj  5s 


?r/£!/  w<r/  Xotoj. 
T/  &ctA)[jl  ;  fX£/va/$  ^p  org 

ovara  xa/3/3aXg, 
'~Epivv{juv  r 


Ka/  3»j 

y  g?  TO; 
Aytiv  Xzovrag  'Hp/wv  5s 

Ou  p/Xse'/,  po&spdf  TS  Xu/xa? 


PART    SECOND.       SECULAR. 


III. 

ROYAL  AND  ACADEMICAL. 


NOTE. 

In  onr  Preface  to  the  present  Volume  we  give  the  title-pages 
of  the  original  publications  wherein  appeared  the  Royal  and 
Academical  Poems  of  this  section  ;  in  the  translation  of  which 
I  owe  again  thanks  to  the  friends  of  the  former  divisions,  as 
their  initials  show ;  and  another,  Professor  Sole,  of  St.  Mary's 
College,  Oscott,  Birmingham,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  that 
bearing  his  initials.  One  to  the  '  Princess,'  celebrated  before,  is 
here  printed  as  well  as  translated  for  the  first  time,  as  noted 
in  the  place.  It  was  deemed  preferable  to  include  it  with  the 
others  rather  than  among  those  hitherto  unprinted.  For  brief 
notices  of  the  various  Royal  and  Academical  celebrities  of  these 
poems,  see  Memorial-Introduction  and  related  English  poems 
in  Vol.  I.  and  notes  in  their  places  in  the  present  Volume. 

Once  more  I  note  here  the  chief  errors  of  Turnbull's  text : 
'Ad Carolum,'  &c.  1. 11,  « perrerati'  for  '  pererrati ;'  1. 26, '  discere' 
for  'dicere:'  in  'In  Serenissimse  Reginae'  &c.  the  heading  is 
•  Senerissimaa  ;'  1.  14,  'tuos'  for  '  tuus ;'  1.  41,  '  Namque'  for 
'  Nam  quae ;'  1.  43,  '  Junus'  for  '  Janus  :'  in  '  Principi  recens'  &c. 
1. 4,  '  eum'  for  '  cum;'  1.  10,  '  lato'  for  « late;'  1.  22,  '  imperiosus' 
for  '  imperiosior  ;'  1.  26,  '  quoque'  for  '  quoquo ;'  1.  30,  '  melle' 
for  '  molle :'  in  '  Ad  Reginam,'  1.  35,  '  aure'  for  '  auree :'  in  '  Vo- 
tiva  Domus'  &c.  1.  20,  « teneras'  for  '  tremulae  ;'  1. 25,  'jam'  for 
'  bene  ;'  1.  26,  '  mulcent'  for  '  mulceat ;'  1.  29,  '  minium'  for 
'  nimium  ;'  1.  40,  '  ora'  for  '  ara  ;'  1.  45,  '  volvit'  for  '  volvat ;' 
1.  50,  '  motus  ad  oras'  for  '  nidus  ad  aras  :'  in  '  Ejusdem  caete- 
rorum'  <^c.  1.  5,  'natalis'  for  'natales;'  1.  15,  '  qua'  for  'quo;' 

I.  31,  *  longe'  for  '  longo :'  in  '  Venerabili  viro  magistro  Tournay' 
&c.  1.  8,  '  vixerit'  for  « vexerit ;'  1.  21,  '  tuos  est'  for  '  tuas  eat;' 

II.  24,  27,  and  28,  '  est'  for  '  eat :'  in  c  Or.  viro  praeceptori'  &c.  1. 
6,  '  metuendas'  for  '  metuendus ;'  1.  20, '  est'  for  '  eat.'     G. 


AD  CAEOLUM  PEIMUM  : 

REX  REDUX.1 

ILLE  redit,  redit.    Hoc  populi  bona  murmura  volvunt ; 

Publicus  hoc,  audin'  ?  plausus  ad  astra  refert : 
Hoc  omni  sedet  in  vultu  commune  serenum ; 

Omnibus  hinc  una  est  laetitiae  facies. 
Eex  noster,  lux  nostra  redit ;  redeuntis  ad  ora 

Arridet  totis  Anglia  laeta  genis  : 
Quisque  suos  oculos  oculis  accendit  ab  istis ; 

Atque  novum  sacro  sumit  ab  ore  diem. 
Forte  roges  tanto  quae  digna  pericula  plausu 

Evadat  Carolus,  quae  mala  quosve  metus  : 
Anne  pererrati  male  fida  volumina  ponti 

Ausa  ilium  terris  pene  negare  suis  : 
Hospitis  an  nimii  rursus  sibi  conscia  tellus 

Vix  bene  speratum  reddat  Ibera  caput. 
Nil  horum ;  nee  enim  male  fida  volumina  ponti 

Ant  sacrum  tellus  vidit  Ibera  caput. 
Verus  amor  tamen  haec  sibi  falsa  pericula  fingit — 

Falsa  peric'la  solet  fingere  verus  amor ; 

1  That  is,  from  the  Scotch  trip  of  1,663.  This  appeared  in 
the  University  collection,  '  Eex  Redux'  &c.  (see  Preface  in  pre 
sent  Volume),  1633.  Among  other  contributors  were  Edward 
King  ('  Lycidas'),  Thomas  Randolph,  Waller,  and  Henry  More. 
G. 


334 


SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 


At  Carolo  qui  falsa  timet,  nee  vera  timeret — 

Vera  p  eric 'la  solet  temnere  verus  amor ; 
Illi  falsa  timens,  sibi  vera  pericula  temnens, 

Non  solum  est  fidus,  sed  quoque  fortis  amor. 
Interea  nostri  satis  ille  est  causa  triumphi  : 

Et  satis,  ah,  nostri  causa  doloris  erat. 
Causa  doloris  erat  Carolus,  sospes  licet  esset ; 

Anglia  quod  saltern  dicere  posset,  abest. 
Et  satis  est  nostri  Carolus  nunc  causa  triurnplii : 

Dicere  quod  saltern  possumus  :  Ille  redit. 

TRANSLATION. 
THE  EETUKN  OF  THE  KING. 

'  The  King  returns  ! '  the  people  cry  ; 

And  shouts  of  greeting  scale  the  sky. 

The  news  sits  in  each  look  serene ; 

In  each  a  common  joy  is  seen. 

Our  King !  our  light  !  she  laughs  once  more, 

Glad  Anglia,  as  he  gains  her  shore. 

Each  at  the  King's  eyes  lights  his  eyes ; 

Sees  new^day  with  his  face  arise. 

You'll  ask,  what  fears  beset  his  way, 

What  ills,  what  dangers, — we're  so  gay  : 

If  'gainst  his  bark,  that  sail'd  for  home, 

The  faithless  billows  dar'd  to  foam ; 

Or  if,  so  seldom  blest,  you  plann'd 

To  keep  him  still,  Iberian  land. 


AD  PRINCIPEM  NONDUM  NATUM.  335 

Nor  waves  have  wrong'd  his  saintly  head, 

Nor  green  Iberia  felt  his  tread. 

Yet  think  such  fancies  true  love  will — 

True  love,  that  feigns  false  perils  still  : 

Us  such  fears  vex,  whose  hearts  are  stout — • 

True  perils  still  true  love  will  scout : 

Thus  fear  false  perils,  scorn  the  true, 

Will  trusty  love  and  brave  in  you. 

0  fitly  we  kept  cloudy  brow, 

Because  of  him,  as  laughter  now. 

When  we  could  say,  '  Our  King's  not  here,' 

We  griev'd  for  him,  no  danger  near  : 

Now  our  hearts  can  no  least  joy  lack, 

When  we  say,  laughing,  '  He's  come  back.'  A. 


AD  PRINCIPEM  NONDUM  NATUM, 

REGINA   GRAVIDA.1 

Nascere  nunc,  6  nunc ;  quid  enim,  puer  alme,  moraris  1 
Nulla  tibi  dederit  dulcior  hora  diem. 

1  The  following  is  a  note  of  Charles  I.'s  family : 
Charles  James,  born  May  13,  1628 ;  died  same  day. 
Charles,  born  May  29,  1630 ;  afterwards  Charles  II. 
Mary,  born  November  4, 1631 ;  afterwards  mother  of  William  III. 
James,  born  October  14,  1633 ;  afterwards  James  II. ,  probably 

the  unborn  child  of  this  poem. 
Elizabeth,  born  December  28,  1635;  died  of  grief  for  her  father 


336  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Ergone  tot  tardos,  6  lente,  morabere  menses  1 

Rex  redit ;  ipse  veni,  et  die,  bone,  gratus  ades. 
Nam  quid  ave  nostrum  1  quid  nostri  verba  triumphi  t 

Vagitu  melius  dixeris  ista  tuo. 
At  maneas  tamen,  et  nobis  nova  causa  triumphi : 

Sic  demum  fueris ;  nee  nova  causa  tamen  : 
Nam  quoties  Carolo  novus  aut  nova  nascitur  infans, 

Revera  toties  Carolus  ipse  redit. 

TRANSLATION. 
TO  THE  EOYAL  INFANT  NOT  YET  BORN, 

THE  QUEEN  BEING  WITH  CHILD. 

.Be  born,  0,  now;  for  why,  fair  child,  delay? 

No  sweeter  hour  will  bring  to  thee  the  day. 

So  many  months  wilt  linger  on  the  wing  ? 

The  King  returns  ;  come  thou,  and  welcome  bring. 

What  is  our  hail  ?  our  voice  of  triumph  high  ? 

Thou  wilt  have  said  these  better  with  thy  cry. 

P>ut  stay ;  and  soon  new  cause  of  triumph  be ; 

And  yet  in  thee  no  new  cause  shall  we  see  : 

Oft  as  tg  Charles  is  born  new  girl,  new  boy, 

Sure  Charles  himself  returns,  and  brings  us  joy.  R.  Wi. 


5th  September  1650  (see  Vaughan's  fine  poem  to  her  memory, 

Works  by  us,  s.n.). 

Anne,  Wn  March  17,  1636-7;  died  December  8,  1640. 
Henry,  born  July  8,  1640;  afterwards  Duke  of  Gloucester  and 

Earl  of  Cambridge. 
Henrietta -Anne,  born  June  16,  1644.     G. 


IN  FACIEM  AUGUSTISSIMI  REGIS 

A  MORBiLLIS  INTEGRAM.1 

Musa  redi,  vocat  alma  parens  Aeademia  :  noster 

En  redit,  ore  suo  noster  Apollo  redit ; 
Vultus  adhuc  aims,  et  vultu  sua  purpura  tantum 

Vivit,  et  admixtas  pergit  amare  nives. 
Tune  illas  violare  genas  ?  tune  ilia  profanis, 

Morbe  ferox,  tentas  ire  per  ora  notis  1 
Tu  Phoebi  faciem  tentas,  vanissime  1     Nostra 

Nee  Phoebe  rnaculas  novit  habere  suas. 
Ipsa  sui  vindex  facies  morbum  indignatur ; 

Ipsa  sedet  radiis  6  bene  tuta  suis : 
Quippe  illic  Deus  est.  coelumque  et  sanctius  astiiun 

Quippe  sub  his  totus  ridet  Apollo  genis. 
Quod  facie  Rex  tutus  erat,  quod  caetera  tactus  : 

Hinc  hominem  Rex  est  fassus,  et  inde  Deum. 


1  The  King  (Charles  I.)  had  the  small-pox  in  1632.— Thin 
appeared  originally  in  the  University  Collection  on  the  occa 
sion,  '  Anthologia  in  Eegis,'  &c.  (see  Preface  to  present  volume  i . 
Henry  More  and  Edward  King  ('  Lycidas')  contrihuted  also.  G. 

VOL.  II.  z 


338  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

TRANSLATION. 

TO  THE  FACE  OF  THE  MOST  AUGUST  KING, 

UNINJURED  BY  SMALL-POX, 

Come,  Muse,  at  call  of  thy  Academy : 

With  his  own  face  our  Phoebus  here  we  see ; 

His  face  his  own  yet,  with  its  own  red  dyed, 

Which  with  its  whiteness  loves  to  be  allied. 

( )  fierce  disease,  dost  thou,  with  marks  profane, 

Attempt  these  cheeks,  that  countenance,  to  stain  ? 

Most  futile  !     Dost  attempt  our  Phoebus'  face  ? 

Not  in  our  Phoebe  her  own  spots  canst  trace. 

His  self-asserting  face  disdains  disease; 

'Mid  its  own  rays  it  sits,  0  well  at  ease. 

Sure  God  and  heaven  and  holiest  star  are  here ; 

Sure  'neath  these  cheeks  smiles  Phoebus  full  and  clear. 

Our  King  being  safe  in  face,  but  touch' d  elsewhere, 

Proves  he  was  here  a  god,  though  a  man  there.      R.  Wi, 


IN  SERENISSIMAE  REGINAE 

4 

PARTUM  HIEMALEM.1 

Serta,  puer ;  quis  nunc  flores  non  prsebeat  hortus  ? 

Texe  mihi  facili  pollice  serta  puer. 
Quid  tu  nescio  quos  narras  mihi ;  stulte,  Decembres 

Quid  mihi  cum  nivibus  ?  da  mihi  serta,  puer. 

1  See  note  to  preceding  poem.     From  Voces  Votivse  &c.  (see 
Preface  to  this  volume).     G. 


IN  SEREXISSIMAE  REGINAE  PARTUM.  339 

Nix  et  hiems  1  non  est  nostras  quid  tale  per  oras ; 

Non  est,  vel  si  sit,  non  tamen  esse  potest. 
Ver  agitur  :  quaecunque  trucem  dat  larva  Decembrem, 

Quid  fera  cunque  fremant  frigora,  ver  agitur. 
Nonne  vides  quali  se  palmite  regia  vitis 

Prodit,  et  in  sacris  quae  sedet  uva  jugis  ? 
Tarn  laetis  quae  bruma  solet  ridere  racemis  ? 

Quas  hiemis  piugit  purpure  tanta  genas  ? 
O  Maria,  6  divum  soboles,  genitrixque  deorum, 

Siccine  nostra  tuus  tempora  Indus  erunt  ? 
Siccine  tu  cum  vere  tuo  iiihil  liorrida  brumae 

Sidera,  nil  madidos  sola  morare  notos? 
Siccine  sub  media  poterunt  tua  surgere  bruma, 

Atque  suas  solum  lilia  nosse  nives  ? 
Ergo  vel  in  vitis  nivibus  frendentibus  Austris, 

Nostra  novis  poterunt  regna  tumere  rosis  1 
()  bona  turbatrix  anni,  quae  limite  noto 

Tempora  sub  signis  non  sinis  ire  suis  ; 
()  pia  praedatrix  hiemis,  quae  tristia  mundi 

Murmura  tarn  dulci  sub  ditione  tenes ; 
Perge,  precor,  nostris  vim  pulchram  ferre  calendis ; 

Perge,  precor,  menses  sic  numerare  tuos. 
Perge  intempestiva  atque  importuna  videri ; 

Inque  uteri  titulbs  sic  rape  cuncta  tui. 
Sit  nobis  sit  saepe  hiemes  sic  cernere  nostras 

Exhaeredatas  floribus  ire  tuis. 
Saepe  sit  has  vernas  hiemes  Maiosque  Decembres, 

Has  per  te  roseas  saepe  videre  nives. 


340  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Altera  gens  varium  per  sidera  computet  annum, 

Atque  sues  ducant  per  vaga  signa  dies  : 
Nos  deceat  nimiis  tantum  permittere  nimbis  ? 
Tenipora  tarn  tetricas  ferre  Britanna  vices  ? 
Quin  nostrum  tibi  nos  omnem  donabimus  annum  : 

In  partus  omnem  expende,  Maria,  tuos. 
vSic  tuus  ille  uterus  nostri  bonus  arbiter  anni : 

Tempus  et  in  titulos  trans&tt  omne  tuos. 
Namque  alia  indueret  tarn  dulcia  nomina  mensis  ? 

Aut  qua  tain  posset  candidus  ire  toga  ? 
Kane  lauruni  Janus  sibi  vertice  vellet  utroque  ; 

Hanc  sibi  vel  tota  Chloride  Mains  emet. 
Tota  suain,  vere  expulso,  respublica  florum 

Begin  am  cuperent  te  sobolemve  tuani. 
(.)  bona  sors  anni,  cum  cuncti  ex  ordine  menses 

Hie  mini  Carolides,  hie  Marianus  erit ! 

TRANSLATION'. 

TO  HER  SERENE  MAJESTY,  CHILD-BEARING  IX 
WINTER. 

Garlands  !  bring  garlands,  boy  !  what  garden  now 
Would  not  give  flowers  ?  with  ready  hand  do  tliou 
Weave  garlands.  What !  December,  sayst  thou, — 

snow? 

Fool !  hold  thy  blabbing,  speak  of  what  we  know. 
Winter  upon  our  shores,  and  snow  1  the  thing 
Is  not,  and  cannot  be.     It  is  the  Spring  : 


TO  HER  SERENE  MAJESTY.  341 

Whatever  ghost  threatens  us  with  the  drear 

Beatings  of  wild  December,  Spring  is  here. 

•See'st  thou  not  with  what  leaves  the  royal  vine 

Spreads  forth,  what  clusters  on  her  boughs  incline  f 

^Say,  when  like  this  was  Winter  ever  seen 

To  laugh  and  glow  in  purple  ?     O  great  Queen, 

Offspring  of  gods,  and  mother  !  do  we  see 

The  seasons  thus  a  plaything  made  for  thee  ? 

Thus  with  thy  Spring  mayst  thou  the  stars  restrain, 

That  Winter  sting  not,  nor  the  South  bring  rain. 

And  do  the  lilies  by  thy  grace  alone 

-Spring  up,  and  know  no  snows  except  their  own  ? 

In  spite  of  all  that  Winter  may  oppose, 

Are  thus  our  kingdoms  blooming  witli  the  rose  ? 

O  thou  most  blest  disturber  of  the  year, 

Who  sufferest  not  the  bounded  seasons  here 

To  keep  i'  their  own  signs  !  destroyer  kind 

<.  ?f  Winter,  whose  sweet  influence  can  bind 

All  harsher  murmurs  of  the  world,  still  dare 

We  pray  thee,  thus  to  force  our  calendar 

With  thy  fair  violence ;  continue  still 

The  months  to  number  at  thine  own  sweet  will ; 

•Still  thus  untimely,  still  thus  burdensome, 

Make  all  things  subject  to  thy  royal  womb. 

So,  by  thy  grace,  may  it  be  often  ours 

To  see  dethroned  Winter  deck'd  in  flowers ; 

On  snow  that  falls  i'  roses  still  to  gaze, 

Sweet  vernal  Winters  and  December  Mays  ! 


SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Let  others  by  the  stars  compute  their  year, 

And  count  their  days  as  wandering  signs  appear : 

Not  so  we  Britons  •  not  for  us  shall  storm 

With  cruel  change  our  seasons  dare  deform; 

To  thee,  great  Queen,  our  whole  year  we  resign, 

( )  spend  it  all  i'  those  rich  births  of  thine  ! 

So  the  whole  year  shall  own  thy  womb  to  be 

Its  sovereign  arbitress  of  good;  in  thee 

Merge  all  its  titles.     Where's  the  month  could  bear 

A  more  delicious  name,  or  ever  wear 

More  whiteness  ?     Janus,  for  his  double  crown, 

Covets  this  laurel ;  Maius  for  his  own 

Would  buy  it,  though  his  Chloris  were  the  cost. 

Thee  or  thine  infant,  now  that  Spring  has  lost 

His  ancient  throne,  the  How'ry  states  invite 

To  take  their  empire.     0  blest  year,  how  bright 

Thy  fortunes,  where  each  month  in  turn  may  claim 

From  Mary  or  from  Charles  its  mighty  name ! 


AD  REGINAM 

tfT  SIBI  ET  ACADEMIAE  PARTURIENTEM.1 

Hue  6  sacris  circumflua  coetibus, 

Hue  6  frequentem,  Musa,  choris  pedem 

Fer,  annuo  doctum  labore 

Purpureas  agitare  cunas. 

1  From  « Delights  of  the  Musee,'  1648,  pp.  47-8 ;    not  in 
Turnbull.     G. 


AD  REQINAM.  343 

Foecunditatem  provocat,  en,  tuam 
Maria  partu  nobilis  altero, 
Prolemque  Musarum  ministram 

Egregius  sibi  poscit  infans. 
Neinpe  ilia  nunquam  pignore  simplici 
Sibive  soli  facta  puerpera  est : 
Partu  repercusso,  vel  absens, 

Perpetuos  procreat  gemellos. 
Hos  ipsa  partus  scilicet  efficit, 
Inque  ipsa  vires  carmina  suggerit, 
Quae  spiritum  vitamque  donat 

Principibus  simul  et  Caraaenis. 
Possit  Camaenas,  non  sine  numine, 
Lassare  nostras  diva  puerpera, 
Et  gaudiis  siccare  totam 

Perpetuis  Heliconis  undam. 
<^uin  experiri  pergat,  et  in  vices 
Certare  sanctis  conditionibus : 
Lis  dulcis  est,  nee  indecoro 

Pulvere,  sic  potuisse  vinci. 
Alternis  Natura  diem  meditatur  et  umbras, 

Hine  atro,  hinc  albo  pignore  facta  parens. 
Tu  melior  datura  tuas,  dulcissima,  servas — 

Sed  quam  dissimili  sub  ratione  ! — vices. 
Candida  tu,  et  partu  semper  tibi  concolor  omni : 

Hinc  natam,  hinc  natum  das ;  sed  utrinque  diem. 


"44  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

TRANSLATION. 
TO  THE  QUEEN. 

Hither,  Muse,  and  bring  again 
Thy  august  surrounding  train  ; 
With  measur'd  tread  of  practis'd  feet 
Come,  for  thou  hast  learn' d  to  greet 
With  the  voice  of  loyal  cheer 
A  princely  cradle  year  by  year. 
Lo,  our  noble  Queen  on  thee 
("alls  in  fruitful  rivalry 
By  another  birth  ;  and  he, 
Illustrious  infant,  needs  must  have 
The  Muses'  offspring  for  his  slave. 
Never  has  she  yet  been  known 
A  mother  for  herself  alone, 
But  by  a  reflected  might 
Even  in  absence  doth  delight 
In  twins  ever,  and  while  she 
Thus  augments  her  progeny, 
And  gives  vigour  to  the  lyre, 
She  doth  at  once  with  life  inspire 
Young  princes,  and  the  Muses'  quire. 
These,  though  not  untouch'd  they  be 
With  the  sacred  flame,  may  she 
Tire  in  her  fruitful  deity, 
And  with  joys  that  theirs  outrun, 
Dry  at  last  all  Helicon  ! 


REGINAE  LIBRUM  COMMENDAT  ACADEMIA.  345 

Sweet  is  the  strife  wherein,  to  prove 

Her  powers,  she  deigns  by  rule  to  move  ; 

Xor  an  unbecoming  stain 

Is  the  dust  that  they  must  gain, 

Who  in  such  contest  can  but  fight  in  vain. 

Nature,  o'er  day  and  night  alternate  dreaming, 

Brings  forth  a  swart  child  now,  and  now  a  fair: 
On  thee  attends,  0  Queen  in  beauty  beaming, 

A  better  Nature,  with  a  rule  how  rare  ! 
Bright  as  thyself,  thine  own  tend  all  the  selfsame  way ; 
A  daughter  now,  and  now  a  son  •  but  each  a  child  of 
Day.  CL. 


SERENISSIMAE  REGINAE  LIBRUM  SUUM 

COMMENDAT  ACADEMIA. 

Hunc  quoque  materna,  nimium  nisi  magna  rogamus, 

Aut  aviae  saltern  sume,  Maria,  manu. 
Est  Musa  de  matre  recens  rubicundulus  infans, 

Cui  pater  est  partus — quis  putet  1 — ille  tuus. 
Usque  adeo  impatiens  amor  est  in  virgine  Musa  : 

Jam  nunc  ex  illo  non  negat  esse  parens. 
De  nato  quot  habes  olim  sperare  nepotes, 

Qui  simul  et  pater  est,  et  facit  esse  patrem  ! 


346  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

TRANSLATION. 
TO  HER  MOST  SERENE  MAJESTY 

THE  UNIVERSITY  COMMENDS  ITS  BOOK. 

Deign,  Queen,  to  this,  unless  we  ask  too  much, 

A  mother's,  or  at  least  grandmother's,  touch. 

It  is  the  Muse's  rosy  infant  fine ; 

Its  father — who  would  think  ? — this  Child  of  thine. 

So  unrestrain'd  the  love  of  virgin  Muse, 

To  be  a  mother  thus  she  can't  refuse. 

From  Mm  what  grandsons  round  thee  soon  will  gather, 

Who  at  once  father  is,  and  makes  a  father  !         R.  Wi. 


PRINCIPI  RECENS  NATAE 

OMEN  MATERNAE  INDOLIS.1 

Cresce,  6  dulcibus  imputanda  divis  ; 

0  cresce,  et  propera,  puella  princeps, 

In  matris  propera  venire  partes. 

Et  cum  par  breve  fulminum  minorum, 

Illinc  Carolus,  et  Jacobus  inde, 

In  patris  faciles  subire  famam, 

Ducent  fata  furoribus  decoris ; 

Cum  terror  sacer  Anglicique  magnum 

1  Turnbull  gives  simply  as  the  heading  •  Natales  Principis 
Mariae. '  The  date  is  Nov.  4,  1631.  This  Princess  was  born 
Nov.  4,  1631.  G. 


PRINCIPI  RECEN8  NATAE  OMEN.  347 

Murmur  nominis  increpabit  omnem 
Late  Bosporon  Ottomanicasque 
Non  picto  quatiet  tremore  Lunas  ; 
Te  tune  altera  nee  timenda  paci 
Poscent  praelia  ;  tu  potens  pudici 
Yibratrix  oculi,  pios  in  hostes 
Late  dulcia  fata  dissipabis. 
( )  cum  flos  tener  ille,  qui  recent! 
Pressus  sidere  jam  sub  ora  ludit, 
Olim  fortior  omne  cuspidatos 
Evolvet  latus  aureum  per  ignes; 
Quique  imbellis  adhuc,  adultus  olim, 
Puris  expatiabitur  genarum 
Campis  imperiosior  Cupido ; 
O  quam  certa  superbiore  penna 
Ibunt  spicula  melleaeque  mortes, 
Exultantibus  hinc  et  inde  turmis, 
Quoquo  jusseris,  impigre  volabunt ! 
O  quot  corda  calentium  deorum 
De  te  vulnera  delicata  discent ! 
0  quot  pectora  principum  magistris 
Fient  molle  negotium  sagittis  ! 
Xam  quae  non  poteris  per  arma  ferri, 
Cui  matris  sinus  atque  utrumque  sidus 
Magnorum  patet  officina  amorum  ? 
Hinc  sumas  licet,  o  puella  princeps, 
Quantacunque  opus  est  tibi  pharetra. 
Centum  sume  Cupidines  ab  uno 


348  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Matris  lumine  Gratiasque  centum 
Et  (Centum  Veneres  :  adhuc  manebunt 
Centum  mille  Cupidines  ;  manebunt 
Tercentum  Veneresque  Gratiaeque 
Puro  fonte  superstites  per  aevum. 

TRANSLATION. 

OF  THE  PRINCESS  MARY. 
Grow,  maiden  Princess,  and  increase, 
Thou,  who  with  the  sweet  goddesses 
Thy  place  shalt  have ;  0  haste  to  be 
Thy  mother's  own  epitome  ; 
And  when  that  pair  of  minor  flames, 
Thy  princely  brothers  Charles  and  James, 
Apt  in  the  footsteps  of  their  sire, 
Lead  on  the  Fates  in  glorious  ire  ; 
When  o'er  the  Bosphorus  shall  creep 
A  thrill  of  dread,  as  rolls  full  deep 
The  murmur  of  the  British  name, 
And  with  no  feign'd  alarm  shall  shame 
The  Turkish  Crescent; — other  wars, 
And  suet  as  bring  sweet  Peace  no  tears 
Shall  call  thee  forth  ;  and  from  on  high 
The  flashing  of  thy  modest  eye 
Shall  scatter  o'er  adoring  foes 
Thick  volleys  of  delicious  woes. 
O,  when  that  tender  bloom  which  now 
Plays,  lately  born,  beneath  thy  brow, 


THE  PRINCESS  MARY.  349 

In  time  to  come  with  mightier  blaze 

Shall  dart  around  its  pointed  rays ; 

When  he,  the  Cupid  now  so  mild, 

Xo  longer  but  a  harmless  child, 

Shall  range  in  youth's  imperious  pride 

Thy  cheeks'  fair  pastures  far  and  wide, — 

0  then  with  what  unerring  skill, 

Borne  on  proud  wings,  thy  shafts  shall  kill, 

While,  where  thou  bid'st,  the  honey'd  blow 

Falls  ceaseless  midst  the  exulting  foe  ! 

How  many  god-like  breasts  shall  learn 

From  thee  with  Love's  rich  wounds  to  burn ! 

How  often  shall  thy  mastering  darts 

Work  their  sweet  will  on  princely  hearts  ! 

For  what  may  she  not  do  in  war, 

Whose  mother's  breast — with  each  bright  star 

That  rul'd  her  birth — to  her  but  proves 

A  storehouse  of  all-conquering  loves  ? 

Hence  for  thy  quiver,  Princess  Maid, 
Take  what  thou  wilt,  nor  be  afraid. 
A  hundred  Cupids  be  thy  prize, 
From  one  of  thy  bright  mother's  eyes  ; 
A  hundred  graces  add  to  these, 
And  then  a  hundred  Venuses  : 
A  hundred-thousand  Cupids  still 
Are  hers  ;  three  hundred  Graces  will, 
With  Venuses  in  equal  store, 
Haunt  that  pure  fount  for  evermore.  CL. 


IN  NATALES  MARIAE  PRINCIPIS.1 

Parce  tuo  jam,  bruma  ferox,  6  parce  furori, 
Pone  animos ;  6  pacatae  da  spiritus  aurae, 
Afflatu  leniore  gravem  demulceat  annum, 
lies  certe  et  tempus  meruit.     Licet  improbus  Auster 
Saeviat,  et  rabido  multum  se  murmure  volvat; 
Imbriferis  licet  impatiens  ISTotus  ardeat  alis; 
Hie  tamen,  hie  certe,  modo  tu  non,  saeva,  iiegares, 
Nee  Notus  impatiens  jam,  nee  foret  improbus  Auster. 
Scilicet  boc  decuit?  dum  iios  tain  lucida  rerum 
Attollit  series,  adeo  commune  serenum 
Laetitiae  vernisque  animis  micat  alta  voluptas; 
Jam  torvas  acies,  jam  squallida  bella  per  auras 
Volvere,  et  hibernis  annum  corrumpere  nimbis? 
All  nielius,  quin  luce  novae  reparata  juventae 
Jpsa  hodie  vernaret  biems,  pulcbroque  tumultu 
PurpureA  properaret  opes,  elfunderet  omnes 
I.aeta  sinus,  nitidumque  diem  fragraiitibus  boris 
Aeternum  'migrare  velit,  florumque  beata 
Luxurie,  tauta  6  circum  cunabula  surgat, 
Excipiatque  novos  et  molliter  ambiat  artus. 

1  From  Tanner  MS.,   as  before  ;  hitherto  uuprinted.     See 
note  to  preceding  poem.     G. 


IN  NATALES  MARIAE  PRINCIPIS.  351 

Quippe  venit,  sacris  iterum  vagitibus  ingens 
Aula  sonat,  venit  en  roseo  decus  addita  fratri 
Blanda  soror.     Tibi  se  brevibus,  tibi  porrigit  ulnis, 
Magne  puer,  facili  tibi  torquet  hiantia  risu 
Ora ;  tibi  molles  lacrymas  et  nobile  murmur 
Temperat,  inque  tuo  ponit  se  pendula  collo. 
Tale  decus  juncto  veluti  sub  stemmate  cum  quis 
Dat  sociis  lucere  rosis  sua  lilia.     Talis 
Fulget  honos  medio  cum  se  duo  sidera  mundo 
Dulcibus  intexunt  radiis :  nee  dignior  olim 
Elagrabat  nitidae  felix  consortio  formae, 
Tune  cum  sidereos  inter  pulcherrima  fratres 
Erubuit  primum,  et  Laedaeo  cortice  rupto 
Tyndarida  explicuit  tenerae  nova  gaudia  frontis. 

Sic  socium  6  miscete  jubar,  tu  candide  frater, 
Tuque  serena  soror.     Sic  6  date  gaudia  patri, 
Sic  matri  cumque  ille  olim  subeuntibus  annis, 
Ire  inter  proprios  magna  cervice  triumphos. 
Egregius  volet,  atque  sua  se  discere  dextra; 
Te  quoque  turn  pleno  mulcebit  sidere.  et  alto 
Elore  tui  dulcesque  oculos  maturior  ignis 
Indole  divina,  et  radiis  intinget  honoris. 
Tune  6  te  quoties,  nisi  quod  tu  pulchrior  ilia, 
Esse  suam  Phoeben  fulsus  jurabit  Apollo; 
Tune  6  te  quoties,  nisi  quod  tu  castior  ilia, 
Esse  suam  Venerem  Mavors  jurabit  inanis. 
Felix,  ah,  et  cui  se  non  Mars,  non  aureus  ipse 
Credet  Apollo  parem;  tanta  cui  conjuge  celsus 


352  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

In  pulchros  properare  sinus,  et  carpere  sacras 
Delicias  oculosque  tuos,  tua  basia  solus 
Turn  poterit  dixisse  sua;  et  se  nectare  tanto 
Pum  probat  esse  Deum,  superas  contemnere  mensas. 


TRANSLATION. 
ON  THE  BIRTHDAY  OF  THE  PRINCESS  MARY. 

Forbear  thy  fury,  Winter  fierce,  forbear; 
Lay  down  thy  wrath,  and  let  the  tranquil  air 
With  inspiration  mild  soothe  the  stern  year : 
This  time  deserves  it,  and  occasion  dear. 
The  wild  North-wind  may  rage  and  wildly  bluster; 
The  gusty  South  its  rainy  clouds  may  muster; 
Yet  here  at  least,  if  thou  but  will  it  so, 
Xeither  wild  North  nor  gusty  South  will  blow. 
For  were  it  seemly,  when  events  so  bright 
Exalt  us,  and  the  universal  light 
( )f  joy  and  vernal  pleasure  thrills  the  soul, 
Grim  lines  of  battling  tempest-clouds  should  roll 
ThrougH  all  the  air,  and  drown  the  year  with  rain] 
Better  old  Winter  should  bright  youth  regain, 
And  turn  at  once  to  Spring ;  with  tumult  sweet 
Hasten  his  purple  stores,  and  joyful  greet 
With  all  his  outpour'd  heart  this  shining  Day, 
And  bid  its  fragrant  hours  for  ever  stay; 
Making  a  radiant  wealth  of  flowers  abound 


THE  BIRTHDAY  OF  THE  PRINCESS  MART.  353 

Where  in  her  cradle  that  sweet  Child  is  found, 
Her  tender  limbs  caress  and  softly  compass  round. 

She  comes !  Once  more  are  heard  those  blessed  cries 
Within  the  palace.     See  a  glory  rise — 
A  star-like  glory  added  to  the  other, 
A  charming  sister  to  a  rosy  brother  ! 
To  this  she  stretches  out  her  tiny  arms, 
Fair  Boy — for  thee  displays  the  winsome  charms 
Of  her  sweet  smiles,  and  checks  her  gentle  tears, 
And  coos  and  prattles  to  delight  thine  ears, 
Or  fondly  hangs  upon  thy  neck.     Such  grace 
Pleases  the  eye,  when,  their  stalks  joined,  you  place 
Lilies  with  roses  to  combine  their  splendour. 
And  then  appears  .such  lustrous  glory  tender, 
When  in  the  midst  of  heaven,  at  dewy  eve, 
Two  stars  their  gentle  radiance  interweave. 
Nor  loftier  grace  that  beauteous  union  show'd 
When  from  her  egg  the  fairest  Helen  glow'd 
Betwixt  her  starry  brothers,  and  display'd 
Her  tender  brow  with  new  delights  array'd. 

So  mix  your  common  beam,  thou  brother  fair 
And  sister  mild.     Such  joys  your  father  share 
And  mother  dear !     And  when,  as  seasons  roll, 
He  moves  with  head  erect  and  princely  soul 
Amid  his  proper  triumphs,  and  shall  learn 
Himself  by  his  own  deeds,  thou  shalt  discern 
A  riper  flame  within  thee,  heavenly  dower, 
And  star  full-orb'd  shalt  shine,  and  full-grown  flower; 

VOL.  ii.  a  a 


354  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

While  a  soft  beauty  bathes  thy  lustrous  eyes, 
And  rays  of  majesty  the  world  surprise. 

Then  0  how  oft,  but  that  thou  art  more  fair, 
Will  some  imaginary  Phoebus  swear 
That  thou  art  his  own  Phoebe !  or  again 
But  that  thou  art  more  chaste,  some  Mars  in  vain 
Will  swear  thou  art  his  Venus,  love's  soft  strain ! 

Ah,  happy  he,  to  whom  nor  Mars  will  dream 
Nor  golden  Phoebus  he  can  equal  seem, 
Who  with  a  wife  so  sweet,  so  fair  is  blest, 
And  all  the  fond  affection  of  thy  breast, 
And  tender,  pure  endearments;  who  alone 
Can  call  thy  eyes  and  kisses  all  his  own; 
And  while  he  quaffs  such  nectar'd  wine  of  love, 
Feels  like  a  god,  and  scorns  the  feasts  above.     K.  Wi. 


AD  KEGLNA.M.1 

Et  vero  jam  tempus  erat  tibi,  maxima  mater, 

Dulc^ibus  his  oculis  accelerare  diem : 
Tempus  erat,  ne  qua  tibi  basia  blanda  vacarent ; 

Sarcina  ne  collo  sit  minus  apta  tuo, 

1  Originally  headed  '  Natalis  Duels  Eboracensis;'  but  altered 
as  above,  as  the  English  poem  on  this  subject  was  so  changed 
when  other  children  were  born,  and  the  earlier  title  became  inap 
plicable.  Appeared  originally  in  the  University  collection  '  Ducis 
Eboracensis'  &c.  (see  Preface  in  present  volume).  This  was 
afterwards  James  II.  G. 


AD  REGINAM.  355 

Scilicet  ille  tuus,  timor  et  spes  ille  suorum,  5 

Quo  primum  es  felix  pignore  facta  parens, 
Ille  ferox  iras  jam  mine  meditatur  et  enses, 

Jam  patris  magis  est,  jam  magis  ille  suus. 
Indolis  6  stimulos ;  vix  dum  illi  transiit  infans, 

Jamque  sibi  impatiens  arripit  ille  virum.  i  o 

Improbus  ille  suis  adeo  negat  ire  sub  annis  : 

Jam  nondum  puer  est,  major  et  est  puero. 
Si  quis  in  aulaeis  pictas  animatus  in  iras 

Stat  leo,  quern  docta  cuspide  lusit  acus, 
Hostis,  io,  est;  neque  enim  ille  alium  dignabitur  hosteni; 

Nempe  decet  tantas  non  minor  ira  manus.  1 6 

Tune  hasta  gravis  adversum  furit ;  liasta  bacillum  est; 

Mox  falsum  vero  vulnere  pectus  hiat. 
Stat  ieo,  ceu  stupeat  tali  bene  fixus  ab  hoste, 

Ceu  quid  in  his  oculis  vel  timeat  vel  amet,  20 

Tarn  torvum,  tarn  dulce  micant :  nescire  fatetur 

Mars  ne  sub  his  oculis  esset,  an  esset  amor. 
Quippe  illic  Mars  est,  sed  qui  bene  possit  amari ; 

Est  et  amor  certe,  sed  metuendus  amor  : 
Talis  amor,  talis  Mars  est  ibi  cernere;  qualis  25 

Seu  puer  hie  esset,  sive  vir  ille  Deus. 
Hie  tibi  jam  scitus  succedit  in  oscula  fratris ; 

Res,  ecce,  in  lusus  non  operosa  tuos. 
Basia  jam  veniant  tua  quantacunque  caterva ; 

Jam  quocunque  tuus  murmure  ludat  amor.  30 

En,  tibi  materies  tenera  et  tractabilis  hie  est ; 

Hie  ad  blanditias  est  tibi  cera  satis. 


356  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Salve  infans,  tot  basiolis,  molle  argumentum, 

Maternis  labiis  dulce  negotiolum ; 
0  salve;  nam  te  nato,  puer  auree,  natus  35 

Et  Carolo  et  Mariae  tertius  est  oculus. 


TRANSLATION. 

TO  THE  QUEEN. 

'Twas  now  the  time  for  thee,  Mother  most  great, 
With  these  sweet  eyes  the  day  to  accelerate  j 
Time  thy  soft  kisses  should  not  idle  be, 
Or  from  fit  burden  thy  fair  neck  be  free. 
For  he,  his  parents'  fear  and  hope  confest, 
With  whom  thou  first  wast  made  a  mother  blest, 
He  wraths  and  swords  designs,  courageous  grown ; 
Now  more  his  father's  is,  and  more  his  own. 
O  spurs  of  nature !  yet  an  infant,  see 
He  catches  at  the  man  impatiently, 
The  rogue  declines  to  keep  in  his  own  years; 
Not  yet  a  child,  he  more  than  child  appears. 
If  on  the  tapestry,  with  feign'd  anger  fraught, 
A  lion  stands,  by  skilful  needle  wrought, 
A  foe  behold ;  such  foe  to  fight  he  deigns ; 
A  lesser  wrath  his  mighty  hand  disdains. 
Fierce  spear  he  brandishes ;  a  wand  his  spear  : 
Soon  in  false  breast  behold  true  wound  appear. 
The  lion  stands,  maz'd  by  such  enemy, 
Fearing  or  loving  something  in  his  eye, 


VOTIVA  DOMUS  PETREN8IS.  357 

So  sternly,  sweetly  bright;  nor  can  he  tell 
"Whether  beneath  that  eye  Mars  or  Love  dwell. 
In  sooth,  a  Mars  who  may  be  lov'd  is  here ; 
And  Love  indeed,  but  Love  deserving  fear. 
Such  Love,  such  Mars,  'tis  easy  here  to  scan ; 
This  god  or  that,  as  he  is  boy  or  man. 

Thy  babe  now  comes  to  take  the  endearing  place, 
A  creature  not  beyond  thy  fond  embrace. 
Now  let  thy  troops  of  kisses  have  their  way, 
Now  let  thy  love  with  brooding  murmur  play; 
Here  is  material  tractable  and  tender, 
Which  waxen  surface  to  soft  touch  shall  render. 
Hail,  infant !  gentle  subject  for  caresses, 
Employment  sweet  a  mother's  lips  which  blesses ; 
O  hail;  for  with  thy  birth,  thou  golden  boy, 
Lo,  to  thy  parents  a  third  eye  brings  joy!  E.  AVi. 


VOTIYA  DOMUS  PETEEXSIS 

PRO  DOMO  DEI.1 

Ut  magis  in  mundi  votis  aviumque  querelis 
Jam  veniens  solet  esse  dies,  ubi  cuspide  prima 
Palpitat,  et  roseo  lux  praevia  ludit  ab  ortu ; 
Cum  nee  abest  Phoebus,  nee  Eois  laetus  habenis 
Totus  adest,  volucrumque  procul  vaga  murmura  mulcet : 

1  On  '  Peterhouse'  see  our  Memorial-Introduction,  vol.  i.  and 
Essay  in  the  present  volume.     G. 


358  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 


ita  ;  quos  nuper  radiis  afflavit  honestis  6 

Relligiosa  dies  ;  nostrique,  per  atria  coeli  — 
Sacra  domus  nostrum,  est  coelum  —  jam  luce  tenella 
Libat  adhuc  trepidae  fax  nondum  firma  diei  : 
Nos  ita  jam  exercet  nimii  impatientia  voti,  i  o 

Speque  sui  propiore  premit. 

Quis  pectora  tanti 

Tendit  amor  coepti,  desiderio  quam  longo 
Lentae  spes  inhiant,  domus  o  dulcissima  rerum, 
Plena  Deo  domus  !  Ah,  quis  erit,  quis,  dicimus,  ille  — 
0  bonus,  o  ingens  meritis,  6  proximus  ipsi,  16 

Quern  vocat  in  sua  dona,  Deo  —  quo  vindice  totas 
Excutiant  tenebras  liaec  sancta  crepuscula  ] 

Quando, 

Quando  erit,  ut  tremulae  flos  heu  tener  ille  diei,         20 
Qui  velut  ex  oriente  suo  jam  altaria  circum 
Lambit,  et  ambiguo  nobis  procul  anuit  astro, 
Plenis  se  pandat  foliis,  et  lampade  tota 
Laetus,  ut  e  medio  cum  sol  micat  aureus  axe, 
Attonitam  penetrare  domum  bene  possit  adulto          25 
Sidere,  nee  dubio  pia  moenia  mulceat  ore  ? 

Quanao  erit,  ut  convexa  suo  quoque  pulchra  sereno 
Florescant,  roseoque  tremant  laquearia  risu  1 
Quae  nimium  informis  tanquam  sibi  conscia  front  is 
Perpetuis  jam  se  lustrant  lacrymantia  guttis  1  30 

Quando  erit,  ut  claris  meliori  luce  fenestris 
Plurima  per  vitreos  vivat  pia  pagina  vultus  ? 

Quando  erit,  ut  sacrum  nobis  celebrantibus  hymnum 


THE  PETERHOUSE  EDIFICE  FOR  GOD'S  ABODE.    359 

Organicos  facili  et  nunquam  fallente  susurro 

Mobile  murmur  agat  nervos;  pulmonis  iniqui  35 

Fistula  nee  monitus  faciat  malefida  sinistros  ? 

Denique,  quicquid  id  est  quod  res  hie  sacra  requirit, 
Fausta  ilia  et  felix — sitque  6  tua — dextra,  suam  cui 
Debeat  haec  Aurora  diem.     Tibi  supplicat  ipsa, 
Ipsa  tibi  facit  ara  preces.     Tu  jam  illins  audi,  40 

Audiet  ilia  tuas.    Dubium  est,  modo  porrige  dextram, 
Des  magis,  an  capias:  audi  tantum  esse  beatus, 
Et  damnum  hoc  lucrare  tibi. 

Scis  ipse  volucres 

Quae  rota  volvat  opes ;  has  ergo,  hie  fige  perennis     45 
Fundamenta  Domus  Petrensi  in  rupe,  suamque 
Fortunae  sic  deme  rotam.     Scis  ipse  procaces 
Divitias  quam  prona  vagos  vehat  ala  per  Euros; 
Divitiis  illas,  age,  deme  volucribus  alas, 
Facque  suus  nostras  illis  sit  nidus  ad  aras:  50 

Eemigii  ut  tandem  pennas  melioris  adeptae, 
Se  rapiant,  dominumque  suum  super  aethera  secum. 

Felix  6  qui  sic  potuit  bene  providus  uti 
Fortunae  pennis  et  opum  levitate  suarum, 
Divitiisque  suis  aquilae  sic  addidit  alas.  55 

TRANSLATION. 

THE  PRAYER  OF  PETERHOUSE  FOR  THE  HOUSE 
OF  GOD   [= ITS  CHAPEL]. 

As  bids  the  Day  a  keener  longing  stir 
The  waking  world,  and  warblings  cheerier 


360  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

To  "birds  inspires,  when  comes  she  o'er  the  hills, 

As  quivering  dart  the  streaks  of  Morn,  and  thrills 

Through  lattic'd  sky  from  roseate  East  the  light 

Presaging  his  approach ;  nor  absent  quite, 

ISTor  glorying  in  his  slacken' d  reins,  the  Sun 

Is  present  all ;  and  birds,  to  music  won 

By  gentle  touch,  are  murmuring  far  and  near, — 

So  we,  on  whom  with  radiance  severe 

A  solemn  day  begins  to  dawn;  whose  eye 

Now  sees  glide  through  the  heavenly  courts  which  lie, 

With  portals  wide — God's  house  is  heaven,  we  say — 

The  flame  unsteady  of  still  wavering  Day 

Slenderly  stealing  in  ;  the  prospect  nigher, 

Our  hearts  too  labour  with  extreme  desire, 

And  throb  with  hopes  impatient  of  their  end. 

How  love  of  such  a  work  our  heart  doth  rend ! 
How  long  desire  makes  hopes  in  leash  restrain'd 
To  pant !  0  sweetest  House,  on  which  has  rain'd 
The  torrent  of  God's  fulness.     Ah,  who  is  he, 
Ah,  who — 0  good,  0  huge  in  charity, 
0  nigh  to  God  Himself, — Whom  to  descend 
On  His  own  gracious  gifts  he  prays— shall  lend 
This  sacred  twilight  power  to  drive  away 
All  gloom,  and  shake  her  raiment  into  day1? 
Ah,  when,  thou  pitifully  trem'lous  bloom 
Of  glimmering  Day,  that  as  from  bridal  room 
In  the  Orient  cam'st  to  kiss  our  altar-stone, 
And  beckonest  to  us  from  a  star  alone, 


THE  PETERHOUSE  EDIFICE  FOR  GOD'S  ABODE.        361 

In  yonder  distance  shining  doubtfully, — 

Ah,  when  wilt  thou  expand  to  Day,  and,  free 

In  conscious  joy  of  thy  full  splendour,  pour 

A  flood  of  light,  as  when  the  Sun  doth  soar 

In  golden  mid-day,  and,  to  full  age  grown, 

Shine  through  and  through  the  pile,  and  make  it  own 

With  awe  thy  sway,  nor  let  the  sacred  walls 

Doubt  thy  embrace  1 

Blest  he  to  whom  befalls 
To  see  the  vaulted  roofs  span  their  fair  sky, 
And  break  in  flowers,  while  fretted  ceilings  lie 
Trembling  with  rosy  laughter ;  which  do  now, 
As  wearing  of  their  shame  a  conscious  brow, 
Bedew  their  formless  face  with  dropping  tear. 
When  shall  it  be  1  the  window  growing  clear 
With  better  light,  that  many  a  page  devout 
May  live,  and  life  from  glassy  face  breathe  out. 
Ah,  when,  as  hymn  of  praise  we  celebrate, 
Shall  solemn-breathing  murmur  make  vibrate 
The  organ's  nerves  with  graceful  ceaseless  hum ; 
Nor  pipe  of  lung  unjust  intruding  come, 
Each  harsh,  uncertain  note  for  ever  dumb  7 

Whatever  else,  in  fine,  this  Sanctuary 
May  need,  that  right-hand  bless'd  and  happy  be, 
And  be  it  thine !  to  which  the  Dawn  shall  owe 
Its  day.     The  altar  kneels  to  thee.     Do  thou 
List  to  her  prayer,  and  she  will  thine  allow ; 
Stretch  out  thy  laden  hand,  and  doubtful  live 


362  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Whether  them  dost  not  more  receive  than  give ; 

That  thou  art  happy  do  thou  only  hear, 

And  turn  thy  loss  to  gain  in  yonder  sphere. 

Thou  know'st  what  wheel  makes  riches  fly  away; 

These  riches  therefore  here  securely  lay, 

Fountains  of  a  House  perennial, 

On  the  Petrensian  rock ;  from  Fortune  shall 

Her  own  wheel  thus  be  wrench'd.    Thou  knowest  how 

prone 

A  wing  bears  up  unconstant  riches,  blown 
On  vagrant,  veering  winds.     Come,  take  away 
These  wings  from  fleeting  riches,  make  them  stay 
At  these  our  altars,  and  build  here  their  nest; 
Till  arm'd  with  wings  to  better  flight  redress'd, 
They  may  transport  themselves  to  the  home  of  rest, 
Bearing  their  master  with  them. 

Blest  that  man 

Who  knowing  prudently  the  times  to  scan, 
The  airiness  of  wealth  to  profit  brings, 
And  him  on  Fortune's  pinions  deftly  flings, 
And  to  his  riches  adds  an  eagle's  wings.  S.  S. 


IN  CAETEKORUM  OPEEUM 

DIFFICILI  PARTURITIONE  GEMITUS.1 

0  felix  nimis  ilia,  et  nostrae  nobile  nomen 

Invidiae  volucris,  facili  quae  funere  surgens 

Mater  odora  sui,  nitidae  nova  fila  juventae, 

Et  festinatos  peragit  sibi  fata  per  ignes. 

Ilia,  hand  natales  tot  tardis  mensibus  horas  5 

Tam  miseris  tenuata  moris,  saltu  velut  uno 

In  nova  secla  rapit  sese,  et  caput  omne  decoras 

Explicat  in  frondes,  roseoque  repullulat  ortu. 

Cinnameos  simul  ilia  rogos  conscenderit,  omneni 

Laeta  bibit  Phoebum,  et  jam  jam  victricibus  alis        F  o 

Plaudit  humum  cineresque  suos. 

Hen,  dispare  fato 

Nos  ferimur ;  seniorque  suo  sub  Apolline  phoenix 
Petrensis  mater,  dubias  librata  per  auras 
Pendet  adhuc,  quaeritque  sinum  in  quo  ponat  inertes  1 5 
Exuvias,  spoliisque  suae  reparata  senectae 
Ore  pari  surgat,  similique  per  omnia  vultu. 
At  nunc  heu  nixu  secli  melioris  in  ipso 
Deliquium  patitur ! 
At  nunc  heu  lentae  longo  in  molimine  vitae  20 

i  See  Memorial-Introd.  vol.  i.,  and  Essay  in  the  present  vol. 
as  below.    G. 


364  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Interea  moritur  !     Dubio  stant  moenia  vultu 

Parte  sui  pulehra,  et  fratres  in  foedera  muros 

Invitant  frustra,  nee  respondentia  saxis 

Saxa  suis ;  moerent  opera  intermissa,  manusque 

Tmplorant.  25 

Succurre  piae,  succurre  parenti, 
0  quisquis  plus  es.     Illi  succurre  parenti, 
Quam  sibi  tot  sanctae  matres  habuere  parentem. 
Quisquis  es,  6  tibi,  crede,  tibi  tot  hiantia  ruptis 
Moenibus  ora  loqui.    Matrem  tibi,  crede  verendam    30 
Muros  tam  longo  laceros  senioque  situque 
Ceu  canos  monstrare  suos.     Succurre  roganti. 
Per  tibi  plena  olim,  per  jam  sibi  sicca  precatur 
Ubera,  ne  desis  senio.     Sic  longa  juventus 
Te  foveat,  querulae  nunquam  cessura  senectae.  35 

TRANSLATION. 

A  GEOAN 

ON  OCCASION  OF  THE  DIFFICULT  PARTURITION  OF  THE  REMAINING 
WORKS  OF  PETERHOUSE. 

0  bird  too  fortunate,  whose  glorious  name 
Fills  us  with,  envy  of  her  happy  fame, 
Which  by  an  easy  death  on  soaring  wing, 
Sweet  mother  of  herself,  doth  upwards  spring, 
Assumes  afresh  her  shining  youth's  attire, 
And  wins  new  lease  of  life  through  hasten' d  fire ! 
She — not  through  slow-revolving  natal  days 
To  a  thin  shadow  worn  by  sad  delays — 


A  GROAN  OVER  THE  PETERHOUSE  WORKS.  365 

Transports  herself  into  another  round 
Of  centuries,  as  by  a  single  bound  ; 
With  beauteous  leaves  her  head  she  covers  o'er, 
And  with  a  rosy  birth  shoots  forth  once  more. 
Soon  as  she  climbs  the  spicy  funeral  pyre 
Joyful  she  drinks  the  sun,  and  mounting  higher, 
Now,  now  the  ground  her  wings  victorious  strike, 
And  her  own  ashes. 

But,  alas,  we  follow 

No  such  example.     'Neath  her  own  Apollo, 
Our  Mother  Peterhouse,  now  ancient  grown, 
Our  aged  Phoenix,  hither,  thither  blown, 
And  balancing  herself  on  doubtful  air, 
Hovers  with  wing  uncertain,  seeking  where 
Her  relics  she  may  lay,  worn  out  with  toils, 
As  in  a  nest,  and  from  the  very  spoils 
Of  her  own  age  renew' d,  she  may  arise 
In  perfect  comeliness  of  face  and  eyes, 
As  in  the  days  of  old,  to  mount  the  skies. 
But  now,  alas,  e'en  in  the  very  throes 
Of  her  reviving  age  our  Phoenix  knows 
And  keenly  feels  a  sad  deficiency. 
Alas,  in  life's  long  lingering  effort  she 
Now  in  the  mean  while  dies.     Of  doubtful  face, 
Her  buildings  seem  in  part  beoteck'd  with  grace ; 
But  elsewhere,  heedless  of  inviting  calls 
To  union,  stand  the  unfinish'd  brother  walls. 
On  unresponsive  ears  the  summons  falls ; 


366  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

As  stones  to  fellow-stones  appealing  turn, 

The  interrupted  works  together  mourn, 

And  beg  a  helping  hand.     0,  succour  bring, 

Whoe'er  is  pious,  to  the  parent  wing 

Which  shelter'd  thee  beneath  its  holy  shade, 

And  gave  so  many  mother  churches1  aid 

Parental ;  0,  be  now  thy  help  display'd. 

Whoe'er  thou  art,  the  ruin'd  courts  to  thee 

With  gaping  mouths  are  speaking  audibly. 

Thy  reverend  mother  would  thine  eyes  engage 

To  view  thy  walls,  dismantled  long  with  age 

And  base  neglect,  and  ponder  her  gray  hair. 

By  the  full  breasts  which  once  she  offer'd  thee, 

By  the  dry  breasts  which  she  is  doom'd  to  see 

Now  for  herself,  she  cries  imploringly  : 

'  My  age  to  help,  0  fail  not  to  appear ; 

So  may  long-lasting  youth  thy  bosom  cheer, 

Youth  which  complaining  age  shall  never  fear.'  R.  Wi. 

TRANSLATION  (more  freely} . 
A  LAMENT 

OVER  THE  SLOW  EESTOEATION  OF  PETEEHOUSE-COLLEGE  BUILDINGS. 

0  Phoenix,  all-too-happy  bird, 
Who  enviless  thy  fame  has  heard  ? 
Thou,  thine  own  mother,  from  the  pyre — 
Spices  mix'd  with  flickering  fire — 
Sweetly  didst  thy  breath  suspire  j 
1  Apparently  the  churches  in  the  gift  of  the  College.    W. 


A  LAMENT  OVER  PETERHOUSE  BUILDINGS.  367 

Then  rose  again,  and  thy  age  gone 
In  a  swift  resurrection — 
Gone  !  by  wondrous  mystic  skill 
Wearing  a  richer  plumage  still, 
Youth  renew'd  from  feet  to  bill, — 
Thou  didst  not  linger  in  thine  age, 
Nor  a  slow  weary  struggle  wage, 
With  changing  cures  and  long  delay 
Searching  for  life  in  every  way. 
No ;  but  a  quick  fate  self-choosing, 
All  hindering  self-ruth  refusing, 
Thou  didst  raise  thy  funeral  pyre, 
Thou  didst  hovering  i'  the  fire, 
From  amidst  the  perfum'd  flame 
Spring  up,  immortal  as  thy  fame. 
Thou  didst  lift  thy  comely  head, 
Ev'ry  moulting  feather  shed ; 
Thou  didst  raise  thy  radiant  breast 

Blazing  to  the  blazing  West. 

0  Phoenix,  thou'rt  an  awful  bird ; 

Who  enviless  thy  fame  has  heard  ? 

Climbing  to  thy  funeral  pyre, 

Climbing  self-martyr'd  to  the  fire, 

Sweetly  there  to  bear  thine  ire ; 

Fetching  down  from  the  great  sun 

To  piled  nest  of  cinnamon 

Kays  intense ;  then  upward  winging, 

Sudden  from  thine  ashes  springing ; 


368  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Victorious  by  this  quaint  mewing, 
Life  strangely  out  of  death  renewing ; 
JSTow  i'  the  red  fire  consuming, 
Next  at  the  sun  thine  eyes  reluming. 

Alas,  how  different  is  the  fate 
In  this  our  later  age,  ingrate, 
Of  her,  my  mother-college,  lying 
All  desolate  and  slowly  dying  ; 
Lifting  but  a  feeble  wing, 
Though  once,  as  Phoenix  of  the  fire, 
Springing  immortal  from  its  pyre  ; 
When  Apollo  and  the  Graces 
Eeign'd  where  Euin  now  defaces, 
Gave  her,  when  she  shone  io  splendour, 
Orator,  sage,  and  poet  tender ; 
Gave  her  sons,  noble  and  good, 
Better  than  the  bluest  blood : 

0  how  chang'd,  since  those  days  olden 
Such  as  in  the  ages  golden, 

1  behold  her,  smitten,  lorn, 
And  by  every  Fury  torn, 
Hanging  in  uncertain  strife 

As  it  were  'twixt  death  and  life  ; 
Doubting  whether  e'en  she  shall 
Have  so  much  as  funeral; 
Her  corpse  laid  in  some  quiet  bay, 
Where  the  sea-waves  softly  play ; 
Willing  they  should  take  her  bones — 


A  LAMENT  OVER  PETEBHOUSE  BUILDINGS.  369 

Her  time-stain'd,  rent,  and  shattered  stones  ; 
If  only  thus  but  once  again 
Rebuild  ed,  she  might  yet  attain 
To  something  of  her  old  renown 
By  such  resurrection, 
And,  phoenix-like,  herself  out-do 
In  her  best  days  when  she  was  new. 
0  ye  sons,  your  mother  own 
In  her  desolation  ; 
Own  her,  though  in  aging  years 
She  shows  few  and  thin  gray  hairs, 
Where  once, — ah — in  brave  times  of  old — 
Flash'd  her  proud  locks  with  sheen  of  gold. 
Ah,  Peter  nam'd,  thou  art  denied, 
Thus  is  thy  name  verified. 
'Tis  a  spectacle  for  tears ; 
'Tis  a  spectacle  for  fears ; 
'Tis  a  spectacle  for  wonder ; 
'Tis  a  crime  deserves  the  thunder, 
That  from  base  to  gold-touch'd  ceiling 
Day  by  day  her  halls  are  reeling ; 
Mullion'd  window  torn  and  rent, 
And  destruction  imminent ; 
Everywhere  such  gaping  wounds 
As  a  stranger  e'en  astounds  ; 
And  what  was  in  faith  begun 
Left  in  desolation ; 
Stone  to  stone  in  mute  appealing, 
VOL.  ii.  bb 


370  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Cold  neglect  and  scorn  revealing, 
And  the  font  of  tears  unsealing. 
Sons  of  my  Mother-College  lying 
All  in  ruins  and  slow  dying, 
If  ye  have  aught  of  piety 
Or  least  touch  of  charity, 
Look  on  these  broken  walls,  and  see 
Your  mother  in  her  misery ; 
Holding  up,  in  vain  appealing, 
Wither'd  hands,  her  woes  revealing  ; 
And  in  the  rank  growths  tangled  there 
See  her  dishonoured  gray  hair. 

Woe  is  me,  her  genial  breast, 
Which  so  many  sons  has  blest, 
Each  all  welcoming  that  came, 
Drawn  by  her  renowned  name, 
Wither'd,  shrunk,  can  quench  no  thirst, 
Ah,  my  heart  with  grief  will  burst. 
To  my  dim  eye  there  rises  clear 
The  full  tide  that  once  roll'd  here ; 
Now  shingle,  sand,  and  fest'ring  mud 
'Jell  of  the  far-refluent  flood. 

0,  pity  her,  ye  sons,  and  vow 
Once  more  to  crown  your  mother's  brow ; 
Once  more  to  rear  her  crumbling  walls ; 
Once  more  to  gather  in  her  halls 
The  young,  the  brave,  the  true,  the  good, 
The  wise,  the  noble ;  and  the  Eood 


VBNEBABILI  VIRO  MAGISTRO  TOURNAY.  37  J 

Over  all  shall  bless  and  keep ; 

So  in  old  age  ye  shall  not  weep, 

Nor  ever  shall  your  fair  fame  sleep.  G. 


VENERABILI  VIEO  MAGISTRO  TOURNAY, 

TUTORI  SUO  SUMME  OBSERVANDO. 

Messis  inauravit  Cereri  jam  quarta  capillos, 

Vitis  habet  Bacchum  quarta  corona  suae, 
Nostra  ex  quo,  primis  plumae  vix  alba  pruinis, 

Ausa  tuo  Musa  est  nidificare  sinu. 
Hie  nemus,  hie  soles,  et  coelum  mitius  illi ;  5 

Hie  sua  quod  Musis  umbra  vel  aura  dedit. 
Sedit  ibi  seeura  malus  quid  moverit  Auster, 

Quae  gravis  hibernum  vexerit  ala  Jovem. 
Nescio  quo  interea  multum  tibi  murmure  nota  est : 

Nempe  sed  hoc  poteras  murmur  amare  tamen.      10 
Tandem  ecce,  heu  simili  de  prole  puerpera !  tandem 

Hoc  tenero  tenera  est  pignore  facta  parens. 
Jamque  meam  hanc  sobolem,  rogo,  quis  sinus  alter  ha- 
beret  ? 

Quis  mihi  tarn  noti  nempe  teporis  erat  1 
Sed  quoque  et  ipsa  meus,  de  te,  meus,  improba,  tutor,  1 5 

Quam  primum  potuit  dicere,  dixit,  erit. 
Has  ego  legitimae,  nee  laevo  sidere  natae 

Non  puto  degeneres  indolis  esse  notas  ; 
Nempe  quod  ilia  suo  patri  tarn  semper  apertos, 


372  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Tarn  semper  faciles  norit  adire  sinus.  20 

Ergo  tuam  tibi  sume  :  tnas  eat  ilia  sub  alas  : 

Hoc  quoque  de  nostro,  quod  tuearis,  habe. 
Sic  quae  Suada  tuo  fontem  sibi  fecit  in  ore, 

Sancto  et  secure  melle  perennis  eat. 
Sic  tua,  sic  nullas  Siren  non  mulceat  aures,  25 

Aula  cui  plausus  et  sua  serta  dedit. 
Sic  tuus  ille,  precor,  Tagus  aut  eat  obice  nullo, 

Aut  omni,  quod  adhuc,  obice  major  eat. 

TRANSLATION. 
TO  THE  VENERABLE  MAN  MASTER  TOURNAY, 

MY  TUTOR  MOST  REVEBED.' 

A  fourth,  time  now  our  glebe  for  Ceres  bears* 
The  golden  locks  of  harvest ;  Bacchus  wears 
Now  the  fourth  season  his  bright  vine-leaf  crown, 
Since,  scant'ly  hoar  as  yet  with  the  soft  down 
Of  her  first  plumage,  in  thy  gentle  breast 
My  young  Muse  dar'd  to  build  herself  a  nest. 
Here  found  she  sun  and  shade  and  gentler  heaven, 
And  what  with  these  is  by  the  Muses  given 
Were  hers.     Here  sat  she  careless  how  the  skies 
Might  darken,  or  the  blasts  of  winter  rise ; 

1  John  Touraay  was  of  Kent :  B.A.  1623  ;  M.A.  1627  ;  B.D. 
1634 ;  elected  Fellow  of  Pembroke  HaU  20th  October  1627,  and 
had  the  College  title  for  orders  the  same  year  (Loder's  Fram- 
lingham,  p.  250).  See  our  Essay  in  present  volume  on  the 
group  of  College  friends.  G. 


TO  MY  TUTOR  MASTER  TOURNAT.        373 

And  here  her  voice  reach' d  thee,  but  by  what  move 

Of  fate  I  know  not,  only  that  thy  love 

Her  voice  did  win ;  and  now  at  length  behold — 

And  ah,  how  much  the  child  her  arms  enfold 

Is  like  the  mother  ! — she  in  tender  years 

The  parent  of  a  tender  babe  appears. 

What  lap,  then,  for  this  infant  shall  I  find 

Fitter  than  thine,  or  known  by  me  so  kind  1 

Yea,  soon  as  she  could  speak,  the  wanton,  she 

Said,  '  He  shall  be  my  guardian,'  meaning  thee ; 

And  no  ill  forecast  I  would  deem  is  this 

Of  Genius  true  and  favouring  deities, 

That  she  so  early  should  a  sire  divine 

Always  so  open,  always  so  benign. 

Take,  then,  thine  own — she  is  beneath  thy  wing — 

And  of  this  gift  accept  the  offering. 

So  may  Persuasion,  who  her  fount  has  made 

Upon  thy  lips,  still  pour  from  thence  unstay'd 

Her  sacred  honey ;  so  be  at  the  Court, 

Whereto  with  plausive  wreaths  she  doth  resort, 

No  ears  thy  Siren  move  not ;  so,  I  pray, 

No  hindering  bar  thy  Tagus  strive  to  stay, 

Or  only  such  as  erst  thy  stream  has  swept  away.      CL. 


ORXATISSIMO  VIRO  PRAECEPTORI  SUO 

COLENDISSIMO  MAGISTRO  BROOK. 

0  mihi  qui  nunquam  nomen  non  dulce  fuisti, 

Tune  quoque  cum  domini  fronte  timendus  eras ; 
Ille  ego  pars  vestri  quondam  intactissima  regni. 

De  nullo  virgae  nota  labore  tuae, 
Do  tibi  quod  de  te  per  secula  longa  queretur, 

Quod  de  me  minium  non  metuendus  eras : 
Quod  tibi  turpis  ego  torpentis  inertia  sceptri 

Tarn  ferulae  tulerim  mitia  jura  tuae. 
Scilicet  in  foliis  quicquid  peccabitur  istis, 

Quod  tua  virga  statim  vapulet,  illud  erit  ; 
Ergo  tibi  haec  poenas  pro  me  mea  pagina  pendat. 

Hie  agitur  virgae  res  tibi  multa  tuae. 
In  me  igitur  quicquid  mmis  ilia  pepercerit  olim, 

Id  licet  in  foetu  vindicet  omne  meo. 
Hie  tiius  inveniet  satis  in  quo  saeviat  unguis, 

Quodque  veru  docto  trans  obeliscus  eat : 
Scilicet  haec  mea  sunt;  haec  quas  mala  scilicet:  6  si, 

Quae  tua  nempe  forent,  hie  meliora  forent ! 
Qualiacunque,  suum  norunt  haec  flumina  fontem — 

Mlus  ab  ignoto  fonte  superbus  eat — 
Nee  certe  nihil  est  qua  quis  sit  origine.     Fontes 


TO  MY  TUTOR  MASTER  BROOK.         375 

Esse  solent  fluvii  nomen  honorque  sui. 
Hie  quoque  tarn  parvus,  de  me  mea  secula  dicant, 

Non  parvi  soboles  hie  quoque  fontis  erat. 
Hoc  modo  et  ipse  veils  de  me  dixisse :  Meorum 

Hie  fuit  minimus — sed  fuit  ille  meus. 

TRANSLATION. 
TO  THAT  MOST  CULTURED  MAN, 

HIS  MOST  ESTIMABLE  TUTOR  MASTER  BROOK.1 

O  thou,  whose  name  to  me  was  still  endear'd 
E'en  when  the  master's  brow  was  justly  fear'd  ; 
I,  of  thy  realm  the  most  inviolate  part, 
By  touch  of  thy  birch-rod  ne'er  taught  to  smart, 
Give  thee  what  through  long  years  complains  of  thee 
That  thou  wast  not  enough  a  fear  to  me ; 
That  I,  base  subject  of  thy  sceptre  slow, 
Thy  ferule's  milder  sway  should  only  know. 
Sooth,  in  these  leaves  what  faults  soe'er  thou  see, 
Thy  rod  in  every  case  should  punish'd  be. 
Then  let  this  page  for  me  the  suffering  pay; 
Here  certainly  thy  rod  may  have  full  play; 
Howe'er  that  rod  to  me  was  once  too  mild, 
It  may  revenge  it  all  on  this  my  child ; 
Here  will  thy  nail  discover  where  to  rage, 
And  scratch  a  learned  blot  across  the  page. 

1  See  Memorial  -  Introduction,  vol.  i.  and  our  Essay,  for 
notices  of  Brooke ;  also  present  volume  for  other  poems,  &c. 
addressed  to  him.  G. 


376  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

These  which  are  bad,  forsooth,  these  things  are  mine : 

Would  they  were  better,  that  they  might  be  thine  ! 

Whate'er  they  are,  these  streams  their  fountain  know, 

Nile  from  an  unknown  fount  may  proudly  go. 

Not  lightly  what  one's  source  may  be  we  deem ; 

Fountains  give  name  and  honour  to  their  stream. 

So  small — my  times  perhaps  may  say  of  me — 

An  offspring  of  no  fountain  small  was  he. 

Only  to  say  of  me  may  it  be  thine  : 

'  He  was  my  least  indeed — but  he  was  mine  !'    R.  Wi. 


IN  REV.  DRE.  BROOKE  EPITAPHIUM.i 

Posuit  sub  ista,  non  gravi,  caput  terra 
Ille,  ipsa  quern  mors  arrogare  vix  ausa 
Didicit  vereri,  plurimumque  suspense 
Dubitavit  ictu,  lucidos  procul  vultus, 
Et  sidus  oris  acre  procul  prospectans. 
Cui  literarum  fama  cum  dedit  lumen, 
Accepit,  atque  est  ditior  suis  donis. 
Cujus  serena  gra vitas  faciles  mores 
Muliere  novit;  cujus  in  senectute 
Famaeque  riguit,  et  juventa  fortunae. 

1  Dr.  Samuel  Brooke,  brother  of  Christopher  Brooke,  author 
of  sweet  lines,  as  '  Tears,'  and  others.  He  died  in  September 
1631.  See  note  on  Dr.  Mansell  ante.  G. 


EPITAPH  ON  REV.  DR.  BROOK.  377 

Ita  brevis  aevi,  ut  nee  videri  festinus ; 

Ita  longus,  ut  nee  fessus.     Et  hunc  mori  credis  ? 

TRANSLATION. 
EPITAPH  ON  KEY.  DK.  BROOK. 

Beneath  this  earth,  strew'd  lightly,  lies  the  head 

Of  one  whom  Death  himself  had  learnt  to  dread, 

Scarce  venturing  to  claim ;  and  falter'd  much 

Ere  he  allow'd  his  threatening  stroke  to  touch 

That  sacred  presence.     These  bright  eyes  from  far 

He  view'd;  from  far  that  face  ray'd  like  a  star. 

On  whom  when  fame  of  letters  lustre  drew, 

He  took  it  as  his  right,  and  richer  grew 

By  his  own  gifts  to  learning;  whose  serene 

Severity  of  manners  seem'd  to  have  been 

Temper'd  by  woman's  softness ;  whose  good  name, 

In  later  as  in  early  years  the  same, 

Stood  firm ;  his  fortune  equal  to  his  fame. 

His  life  so  short,  that  not  in  haste  he  seem'd; 

So  long,  that  weary  he  might  not  be  deem'd : 

That  such  a  one  is  dead,  can  it  be  dream'd  ?       K.  Wi. 


EPITAPHIUM  IN  GULIELMUM  HERRISIUM.1 

Siste  te  paulum,  viator,  ubi  longum  sisti 
ISTecesse  erit,  hue  nempe  properare  te  scias  quocunque 
properas. 

Morae  pretium  erit 

Et  lacrymae, 

Si  jacere  hie  scias 

Gulielmum 
Splendidae  Herrisiorum  familiae 

Splendorem  maximum  : 
Quern  cum  talem  vixisse  intellexeris, 

Et  vixisse  tantum; 

Discas  licet 

In  quantas  spes  possit 

Assurgere  mortalitas, 

De  quantis  cadere. 

Infantem        Essexia         ) 

T  n     *  v  •  •    f 

Juvenem         Oantabrigia  ) 


/ 

Quem  1 
i 


1  For  notice  of  Herres  or  Harris,  see  Essay  in  the  present 
volume.  Curiously  enough,  in  line  2,  the  original  misprints 
'  tempe'  for  '  nempe,'  as  in  the  '  Bulla'  is  misprinted  'nempe'  for 
'  tempe  ;'  and  onward  '  morte'  for  '  mortem  ;'  while  '  Oratorem' 
and'Poetam'  are  exchanged  wrongly.  In  the  heading  too  it  is 
'  Dominum'  for  '  Gulielmum.'  G. 


EPITAPHIUM  IN  GULIELMUM  HERBISIUM.  379 

Senem,  ah  infelix  utraque 
Quod  non  vidit. 

Qui 

Collegii  Christ!  Alumnus 
Aulae  Pembrokianae  socius, 
Utrique  ingens  amoris  certamen  fuit, 

Donee 

Dulciss.  lites  elusit  Deus,  * 

Eumque  coelestis  collegii, 
Cujus  semper  alumnus  fuit, 

socium  fecit; 
Qui  et  ipse  collegium  fuit, 

In  quo 

Musae  omnes  et  Gratiae, 
Nullibi  magis  sorores, 
Sub  praeside  religione, 
In  tenacissimum  sodalitium  coaluere. 


agnovere. 


superavit. 


Cujus 

Sub  verna  fronte  senilis  animus, 
Sub  morum  facilitate,  severitas  virtutis; 


(  Oratoria 

Oratorem 

Poetica 
Quern  \ 
utraque 

I  Christianum 

Poetam 
Philosophum 
Omnes 

fFide 

Mundum 

1  Spe 
Qm]charitate 

Coelum 
Proximum 

L  Humilitate 

Seipsum 

380  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

Sub  plurima  indole,  pauci  anni; 
Sub  majore  modestia,  maxima  indoles 
adeo  se  occuluerunt 

ut  vitam  ejus 

Pulchram  dixeris  et  pudicam  dissimulationem : 
Imo  vero  et  mortem, 
Ecce  enim  in  ipso  funere 
Dissimulari  se  passus  est, 
Sub  tantillo  marmore  tantum  hospitem, 
Eo  nimirum  majore  monumento 

quo  minore  tumulo. 
Eo  ipso  die  occubuit  quo  Ecclesia 

Anglicana  ad  vesperas  legit, 
Raptus  est  ne  malitia  mutaret  intellectum  ejus; 
Scilicet  Id.  Octobris  anno  S.  1631. 

TRANSLATION. 

EPITAPH  FOE  WILLIAM  HARRIS. 

Stay  thee  a  short  space  here,  good  passer-by, 

Upon  thy  way; 
Wherein  a  little  while  thou  too  must  lie, 

Haste  as  thou  may. 

Certes  thou  knowest  that  thy  life-long  quest 
Leads  hither — to  the  long,  long  sleep  and  rest  : 
Grudge  thee  not,  then,  the  tribute  of  a  tear, 
Whilst,  ling'ring,  to  this  stone  thou  drawest  near. 
It  will  reward  thy  stay, 


EPITAPH  FOR  WILLIAM  HARRIS.  381 

It  will  thy  tears  repay, 
J^  To  know 

v  Below 

lies 

William, 
Of  the  family  of  Harris, 

rThe  most  splendid  name 
Where  all  have  fame. 
Knowing  that  such  an  one  did  live, 

And  how  he  liv'd — great,  noble,  wise — 
Know  how  all  mortal  hopes  are  fugitive; 

Height  gauging  depth  with  '  Here  he  lies.' 
As  infant         Essex          ) 

>   GQTir 

As  youth         Cambridge  ) 
Ah,  miserable  and  lamenting  both,  that  they 
-  0   See  not  his  golden  locks  in  years  grow  gray ! 

He  was 

A  student  of  Christ  College, 
A  fellow  of  Pembroke  Hall : 

To  have  him 
«J 

The  two  Colleges  did  strive 

In  rivalry  of  love : 

[    But  the  great  God  put  in  His  negative, 
J  Calling  him  Above, 

To  gain  ampler  knowledge 
In  the  Heavenly  College, 

Of  which  he  was  on  earth  a  student  consecrate ; 
So,  when  Death  summon'd  him,  he  went  elate. 


Whom! 


382 


SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 


So  wise  his  wit, 

By  genius  lit, 

In  himself  alone 

Many  in  one, 
You  had  a  College,  where 
Graces  and  Muses  fair 
With  Religion,  you  might  see 
Twin'd  hand  in  hand  in  amity. 


Whom 


•  -Eloquence  as  an 

Orator 

Poetry  as  a 

Poet 

Each  as  a 

Philosopher 

All  as  a 

Christian      J 

By  faith  the 


world 
Heaven 
fellow-men 
himself 


. 
By  love  his 

By  himself 

Of  whom 

The  ripen'd  mind  under  a  youthful  face ; 
Severest  virtue  under  courtliest  grace; 
Few  years  his,  yet  mellow'd  as  in  age; 
A  modesty  that  did  all  hearts  engage : 
These  self-reveal'd  and  self-revealing, 
That  all  his  life  seern'd  but  a  fine  concealing. 
Yea,  ev'n  in  his  death  'twas  so; 
For  being  thus  at  length  laid  low, 
He  chose  no  boastful  tomb  to  tell 
How  good  the  life  that  in  him  fell : 


owned : 


conquered 


IN  EUNDEM  SCAZON.  383 

By  so  much  greater  is  the  guest, 
Smaller  the  mound  where  he  doth  rest  : 
Yea,  in  his  death  there  was  diminution  : 
Great  was  the  guest,  but  see  how  small  the  stone. 
On  that  very  day  he  died  in  which  the 
Church  of  England  reads  its  even -song : 
He  was  snatch'd  away,  lest  the  wickedness 
of  the  times  should  contaminate  his  understanding, 
viz.  15th  October  A.S.  1631.1 


IN  EUNDEM  SCAZON.2 

Hue,  hospes,  oculos  flecte,  sed  lacrimis  caecos, 

Legit  optime  haec,  quern  legere  non  sinit  fletus. 

Ars  nuper  et  natura,  forma,  virtusque 

Aemulatione  fervidae,  paciscuntur 

Probare  uno  juvene  quid  queant  omnes, 

Fuere  tantae  terra  nuper  fuit  liti, 

Ergo  hue  ab  ipso  Judicem  manent  coelo. 

1  In  1648  (last  four  lines),  1.  2  is  misprinted  '  Anglica  nee' 
for  '  Anglicana,'  and  1.  3  '  militia'  for  '  malitia'  of  1646  edition. 
There  is  some  obscurity  in  the  '  ad  vesperas  legit.'     The  in 
transitive  use  seems  unusual,  unless  it  means  as  above=the 
Anglican  Church  performs  the  evening  service  at  the  close  of 
its  day,  or  before  it  ceased  to  exist  as  the  Church  of  the  land. 
Laud  was  now  commencing  those  innovations  which  led  to  the 
destruction  of  the  Church  of  England.     G. 

2  From  '  Delights  of  the  Muses,'  after  '  Upon  the  Death  of 
Mr.  Herrys'  (of  vol.  i.  pp.  220-1).   Not  given  by  Turnbull.    G. 


384  SECULAR  LATIN  POEMS. 

TRANSLATION. 

Stranger,  bend  here  thine  eyes,  but  dim  with  tears; 
Whom  weeping  blinds,  best  reader  here  appears. 
Art,  Nature,  Beauty,  Virtue,  all  agree, 
Contending  late  with  a  warm  rivalry, 
To  show  what  in  one  youth  all  join'd  would  be. 
So  great  the  strife  they  caus'd  on  earth  of  late, 
That  here  from  heaven  itself  the  Judge  they  wait. 

RWi. 


IN  PICTURAM  REVERENDISSIMI  EPISCOPI 

D.  ANDREWS.1 

Haec  charta  monstrat,  fama  quern  monstrat  magis, 

Sed  et  ipsa  necdum  fama  quern  monstrat  satis; 

Ille,  ille  totam  solus  implevit  tubam, 

Tot  ora  solus  domuit,  et  famam  quoque 

Fecit  modestam:  mentis  igneae  pater 

Agilique  radio  lucis  aeternae  vigil, 

Per  alta  rerum  pondera  indomito  vagus 

Cucurrit  animo,  quippe  naturam  ferox 

Exhausjt  ipsam  mille  foetus  artibus, 

Et  mille  linguis  ipse  se  in  gentes  procul 

Variavit  omnes,  fuitque  toti  simul 

Cognatus  orbi,  sic  sacrum  et  solidum  jubar 

Saturumque  coelo  pectus  ad  patrios  libens 

Porrexit  ignes :  hac  eum,  lector,  vides 

Hac,  ecce,  charta  6  utinam  et  audires  quoque. 

1  For  Crashaw's  own  translation  of  this  see  vol.  i.  p.  217.  G. 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


As  in  the  other  Worthies,  this  Index  is  intended  to  guide  to 
Notes  and  Illustrations  of  the  several  words  in  the  places ; 
but  mainly  in  Vol.  I.,  as  Vol.  II.  consists  wholly  of  the  Latin 
and  Greek  and  their  translations.  G. 


A. 

Acidalian,  ii.  22. 

Adult'rous,  ii.  144. 

Alas,  i.  181. 

All- Hallow,  ii.  59. 

All-mischiefe,  ii.  59. 

Alps,  ii.  32. 

Ambush,  i.  90. 

Apricockes,  i.  269. 

Archer  [badly  misprinted  ' 

chor'],,!.  176. 
Assyrian,  ii.  30. 

B. 

Baal-zebub,  i.  133. 
Bilbilician,  ii.  26. 
Black-fac'd,  ii.  41. 
Blossome,  i.  28,  207. 
Bottles,  i.  15. 
Brag,  ii.  35. 
Breakfast,  i.  15. 
Brisk,  i.  15. 
Bud,  i.  93. 
Bulla,  ii.  245,  251. 
Buried,  ii.  72. 

C. 

Cadence,  i.  17. 

CaUs  't,  i.  16. 

Canary  scribblers,  i.  xlviii. 

Case,  i.  15. 

Cast,  ii.  184. 

Cast  away,  ii.  43. 


Ceaze,  i.  214. 

Chaplaine  [of  Virgin],  i.  xv. 

Cherrimock,  i.  267. 

Child,  ii.  28-9. 

Clouds  [mortal],  i.  90. 

Crawles,  i.  14. 

Cruzzle,  i.  15. 

D. 

Deaw,  i.  15. 
L>eliquium,  i.  89. 
Devil,  speaking  and  dumbe,  ii. 

140. 

Divident,  i.  24. 
Doome,  i.xvi. 

E. 

Ease,  i.  15. 
Epigram,  sacred,  ii.  13. 

F. 

Faithful,  i.  16. 
Fides,  ii.  101. 
Flight,  i.  258. 
Fly,  i.  175. 
Food,  ii.  41. 
Forlorne,  ii  41. 
Forswearing,  i.  133. 
Fragrant,  i.  157. 
Fries,  i.  118. 
Frighted,  ii.  144. 
Froward,  ii.  137. 
Full-fac't,  ii.  53. 

CO 


386 


GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


G. 

Pearle-tipt,  ii.  79. 

Gaie,  ii.  43. 

Pharian,  i.  54. 

Gloomy,  ii.  41. 

Phosporos.  i.  118. 

Gold,  i.  16. 

Points,  i.  75. 

Golden,  ii.  45. 

Posts,  i.  123. 

Groves,  i.  93. 

Precocious,  ii.  12. 

Price  =  prize,  i.  90. 

H. 

Prouoke,  i.  16. 

Heaven-burthen'd,  ii.  36. 

Purple,  ii.  164. 

Horn  [guilded],  i.  89. 

Pyx,  ii.  27. 

Husband-showrs,  i.  74. 

R. 

j 

Rampart,  i.  253. 

Illustrious,  i.  239. 

Rape,  ii.  144. 

Rnh    i    68 

Indifferent,  i.  89. 

JAUDj   1.   Uo. 

Ite,  i.  169. 

s. 

Sages  [sue],  i.  92-3. 

K. 

Sanite,  i.  13. 

Kist,  i.  89. 

Score,  ii.  123. 

Seized,  i.  xlv. 

L. 

Send,  ii.  35. 

Laces,  i.  78. 

Seven  shares  and  a  half,  i.  xlri. 

Large-look't,  i.  233. 

Shadow  ['brighter'],  i.  91. 

Least  and  last,  i.  89. 

Ship  wrack,  ii.  49. 

Legible,  i.  89. 

Silver-forded,  footed,  i.  14. 

Lightness,  ii.  46. 

Silver-tipt,  ii.  144. 

Lin'age,  i.  119. 

Simpering,  i.  17. 

Looke  up,  looke  downe,  ii.  69. 

Sixpenny  soule,  suburb  sinner, 

i.  xlvii. 

M. 

Sluttish,  i.  18. 

May  balsame,  i.  15. 

Staine,  ii.  99. 

Med'cinable,  i.  15. 

Steely,  i.  227. 

Mint,  i.  16. 

Stooped,  i.  240. 

Strings,  i.  140. 

N. 

Subtracts,  ii.  12. 

Negotiate,  i.  90. 

Sugar,  i.  179. 

Nest,  i.  78. 

Sydnaean,  i.  256. 

Nightenijig,  L  43. 
Nuzzeld,  i.  15. 

T. 

Then=than,  i.  24,  et  frequenter. 

O. 

Thinne,  i.  177. 

Oblique,  i.  90. 
Officious,  i.  75. 

Threasure,  i.  9. 
Tree  =  cross,  i.  24,  46. 

One-mouth'd,  ii.  46. 

Trims't,  ii.  123. 

One,  owne,  i.  24. 

Twin'd,  i.  242. 

P. 

TJ. 

Paire,  i.  17. 

Uncontrouled,  i.  242. 

Paradise,  bird  of,  i.  xv. 

Unpearcht,  i.  68. 

Paramours,  i.  78. 

Unwounded,  ii.  49. 

GLOSSARIAL  INDEX. 


387 


v. 

Veroman,ii.  25. 
Violls,  i.  5.  15. 


W. 


Washt,  ii.  81. 


Wayd,  i.  46. 

Wee,  i.  14. 

White,  i.  149  ;  ii.  41,  165. 

Wine,  i.  28. 

Worm,  i.  119. 

Wrack,  ii.)  37. 


END  OF  VOL.  II. 


jFinis. 


LONDON: 
ROBSON  AND  SONS,  PRINTERS,  TANCRAS  ROAD,  N.W. 


Crashaw,  Richard 
3386  Complete  works 

A13 
1872 
v.2 


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